


The Promise

by SpecialAgentFiction



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Prequel, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecialAgentFiction/pseuds/SpecialAgentFiction
Summary: "Promise me you'll look after them." Her hold was tight despite the life fading from her. "Promise me.""I promise." Ellie said, squeezing back."All of them." Dis added, her eyes darting to the door and the two who waited outside.Ellie simply nodded, her understanding clear. She pressed a kiss to the princess' hand and gestured for the door to be opened. A whirlwind of blonde hair with a nose so like Frerin's burst into the room and clambered onto the bed with a cry of 'Mama'. Ellie wiped a tear from her eye and stood, giving the princeling room."I promise." She repeated, whispering to herself as a hand guided her by the shoulder into the waiting broad chest.Taken in by the Durin's when she was a child, Eleonóra has lived through it all; the glory of Erebor, Smaug, the journey to Erid Luin and now a Quest to reclaim the hallowed halls stolen from them so many years ago.With a promise to fulfill she will do anything to keep her boys, all of them, safe.





	1. The Glory of Erebor

_My Dear Frodo,_

_You asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures. And while I can honestly say I have told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it._

_I am old now, Frodo. I’m not the same Hobbit I once was._

_I think it is time for you to know what really happened._

 

Bilbo ended the note with a faint smile before opening the leather-bound book he had been keeping for this particular story. The red leather had once been too painful to see – its shine too familiar to bursts of flame that sometimes still hounded him. But now, with so much time passed and a new era dawning, it was time to pass on this tale.

His hand ghosted over the supple cover, stopping at the intertwined silver B’s at one corner before he opened it and felt a gasp leave his lips as his own eyes stared up at him.

He lifted the sketch from the page where it had been safely tucked, and traced the outline of the much younger face he once wore. It was not the only one that had been stored within these pages, he realised as a dozen thin sheets slid out from behind it.

Most were very rough outlines, memories that he had been desperate to recapture upon his return but the charcoal had never done them justice – never captured a laugh or a groan at another campfire tale, never quite soft enough around the gleaming eyes of his companions.

There were only a few he had managed to fully complete. One was particularly striking; a mountain, far off in the distance with a raven heading straight for it. Not a raven, he recalled with a smile; a thrush. He could still feel the sunlight warming him after their escape and could see the joy in their leader’s eyes as his home loomed before them.

His favourite was the one that had taken the longest; a landscape of sixteen faces. He had used rough sketches of them from their time together to create it. The tiny pieces of paper had been just enough to capture the different smiles, the thickness of their furs and the happiness of sixteen people as they became a family.

The portrait of himself was different to the others, which made sense as it was not his hand that had completed it. The shading of the column of his throat and the definition in his hair spoke of a much more talented artist, one that had been taught this particular art form.

They had been sketching together underneath an oak tree just outside the Mountain. He remembered it all so clearly. Thirteen men were failing to hide their exhaustion as they helped rebuild their home and it was only when a basket of food was revealed did they finally hand over to a younger group of eager residents, desperate to make their mark on this place, and join them in the shade.

Their congregation on that patch of still-dusty grass had marked the end of their journey together and the sketches exchanged between the two artists as their companions dozed in the afternoon sun were promises of remembrance – promises to never forget what they did together, what they overcame and what they had achieved.

He reshuffled the sheets and placed them to one side, his favourite on top to act as encouragement as he wiped the empty page clean of any dust before dipping his quill into the inkpot.

He took a breath before letting the words flow from him; their inky marks the beginning of a tale that most could only imagine.

 

_It began long ago in a land far to the East, the like of which you will not find in the world today…_

 

* * *

“For a dwarven princess, you’re actually terrible at this.” Eleonóra teased, laughing as Dis glared at her via the mirror.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fidget…” Dis dug a finger into her best friend’s side as the blonde continued to laugh at her attempts to copy the intricate braid her maid had woven her hair into that very morning. “…it’d look better.” She pinned a final piece into place and stepped back. “I give up.” She huffed, falling into a waiting armchair as the pin failed to hold and the coiled plait collapsed

“Thank Mahal.” Ellie muttered, reaching behind her head to try and untangle the mass of knot’s Dis had managed to tie in place of the beautiful plait that adorned her own head.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Ellie prodded around, frowning as she found knots tied deeper and deeper in the cascade of hair.

“It’s funny how often I forget you aren’t my actual sister.” Dis sighed, watching her best friend’s brow furrow in a way that was strangely Durin as she hit a particularly tight knot. “You look so much like Frerin when you’re frustrated…”

“I’ve told you a thousand times; stop telling me I look your brother – it’s not as much of a compliment as you think it is.”

“It’s the hair.” Dis waved away Eleonóra’s eyeroll. “And the fact you basically grew up together so you pull the same faces and have these little ‘in’ jokes.”

“It’s really not my fault you were born nine years after me.” Ellie reminded her.

“I’m a princess; I’m allowed to pout over silly things like the fact that my brothers have spent more time with you.”

“Yes, it’s been an absolute delight listening to them discuss how best to attack me in ‘training sessions’.” She let out a victorious cheer as she finally freed her fingers from Dis’ mess.

“You love them really.”

“Yes.” Eleonóra smiled to herself. “I do.”

It was no secret among dwarves that the three heirs of Erebor were close to the young woman that their father had opened their home too after a sixteen-year-old Eleonóra was suddenly and horrifically orphaned after her father’s mining accident.

“You and Thorin will have such gorgeous children.” Dis sighed wistfully as Ellie’s hands stalled in her hair; the princess having effectively broken her from her thoughts.

“Dis.” The name was a warning to not continue this conversation.

“I’m just saying.” She defended herself as Eleonóra continued to glare at her. “You’re both-”

“ **Dis.** ” She silenced the princess. “I love you dearly, but if you don’t stop trying to get Thorin and I betrothed-”

“But you’re perfect for each other!”

“Stop it, Dis.” She turned to face the woman as she finally managed to slide her fingers through her hair without getting them stuck. “Thorin is practically my brother; we have no interest in each other.”

“You’d be Queen one day.”

“I have no desire to be Queen.” Ellie told her, gathering her hair over one shoulder as she began to weave it into a relatively simple braid.  

“Fine.” Dis sighed again. “I promise to never mention it again.” She forced herself from the chair. “I understand your reluctance I suppose.” Ellie quirked an eyebrow at the wandering princess. “It’s not like Durin Queens have the best luck: grandmother died having Father, Mother died having me…” She trailed off, Ellie’s hands slipping sadly from her finished braid.

“Dis…” She rose from the stool at the princess’ vanity. “…that’s not it at all.” She reached her friend and pulled her close, sighing as the still young dwarrowdem’s arms wrapped around her midriff. “Thorin taught me to swing a sword and how to make the boys who picked on me run away…your family took me in when my entire world collapsed around me…there aren’t people I love more in the whole of Middle-Earth; just not in **that** way.”

“I know.” Dis pulled away from their embrace as Ellie pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to make you my sister for real.” She smiled and Ellie was glad that her bought of sadness seemed to have passed.

“Tell me about Harlun.”  Eleonóra grinned as Dis’ face began to flush a subtle shade of pink at the sound of the young man that had been loitering around the princess. While still too young to wed, the hand of a Durin princess was a matter to not be taken lightly so the opportunity to tie her name to a promising young lad was something Thrain was eager to achieve.

“Nothing’s been confirmed yet.” She reminded her with a small smile. “But father invited him hunting with him, Thorin and Frerin so…”

“So we’ll be marrying you off anytime soon.” Eleonóra finished for her, nudging her with a grin and the pair began to laugh.

“Your Highness, My Lady…” The women turned as a new voice entered the room and Dis waved in the maid loitering in the doorway. “…You asked me to find you when it was a quarter to the hour.”

“Wonderful; thank you.” Eleonóra beamed at the maid as she curtsied and left the pair.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting your brother at the forges.”

“Which brother?” They shared a look before Dis broke out into a grin at her best friend’s reluctance to voice the name of her eldest brother. “I’m saying nothing.” She laughed at the glare Ellie threw her way as she headed for the door of the princess’ chambers. “Have fun!” She called behind her, dissolving into further giggles as the door slammed behind her.

* * *

Erebor was, as usual, full of life as Eleonóra made her way from the royal chambers on the upper-most levels of the Mountain fortress and down into its fiery depths where the forges burned day and night.

As her feet trod the familiar path to the smelting stations of the famed mines, she let her mind wander to Dis and the royal family. Today wasn’t the first time the princess had broached the subject of marrying her eldest brother to her best friend, and Eleonóra knew it wouldn’t be the last, despite her promise otherwise.

Admittedly, the Crown Prince and the female dwarf were close. Very close. She’d lived with the royal family for many years and had grown close to Thrain’s three children with each having assumed a different role in her life.

Dis was her best friend and sister in all but blood. She’d still been fairly young when Eleonóra had joined the family and very confused at the fact that her brothers constantly talked about the woman who had died bringing her into the world; the woman she’d never met. Eleonóra had been tasked with bringing the child out of her shell and the pair had been inseparable ever since.

Frerin was definitely the interfering brother figure in her life. The pair had known each other since they were children – a closeness with the King’s family only one of the many perks her father enjoyed as the King’s best diamond miner. The blonde prince was constantly dropping in on her with new tales from his warrior training and a bawdy joke learnt from his comrades. He could often be found lounging across the sofa in her chambers with a grin on his lips and a new tease at the ready.

Thorin was the enigma. While Dis and Frerin were unquestionably her sister and brother…Thorin was something else. He had never shunned her or argued with his father’s decision to welcome her into their life after her own father’s death but…well they shared a different closeness.

Dis was wonderful at keeping her up to date on Erebor’s gossip and the latest styles among the dwarrowdams, and Frerin was responsible for the sharp blade on her sword and her ability to ‘think fast’ as he came at her with a dagger (for training purposes only, of course). But Thorin was a source of solace from the two.

He was quick with a smile and always laughed at her jokes, but their time together was spent discussing politics and strategy as he returned from his Grandfather’s council meetings. They shared a love of books and when her thirst for battle knowledge was going un-quenched by the royal library, he all but dragged her out into the training yard and thrust a sword into her hand.

The eldest prince had a strange ability to make her feel completely at ease and that was the only reason she had agreed to meet him at her family forge.

The mine and the forge had been passed down through the generations, ensuring that anything mined in her family name was smelted using their methods and to their standards; they cut no corners on quality. The fact that anything they produced was of Dwarven origin was a promise of perfection in itself, but the attachment of that simple name? It had forged more than perfect items. It was responsible for a generations old link with the throne itself and when the mines hit on a hoard of diamonds so clear they could be using to see through? It was the only way she’d been able to hold onto the business following her father’s death.

Hands clasped in front of her, she shook her head free of all thoughts of her father and instead focused on approaching the lone figure basking in the heat of the forges as silently as possible.

“Boo.”

The Prince merely smiled as she moved to stand in front of him.

“You’re in good spirits today.” He noted. “I’d say it was the prospect of spending the afternoon with me but I fear otherwise.”

“An afternoon inspecting jewels with my favourite Durin; who else would this smile be for?”

“Don’t let my father hear that.” He offered her his arm. “He firmly believes he is your favourite.”

“Then it shall be our secret.” She tucked her arm under his and let him lead her into the sweltering heat of the forges.

The forges were an intimidating place to young dwarves taking their first steps into the underbelly of Erebor but to Eleonóra they were a second home. She had spent her childhood alternating between the family business and playing with Frerin and Thorin, so the men here were more than sweltering strangers; they were an extended family who had watched her grow.

Waving to various workers as they moved through the impressive works; past the furnaces and the workstations, past the vats of molten gold and the enormous moulds crafted to cool it in and towards the craft-stations at the very back.

This was a much quieter area of the forges; the benches were the last place the magnificent creations that Erebor produced were held. It was here that the more intricate work went on; where rough outlines of moulded metal were honed on smaller fires to produce works of art in the form of necklaces and earrings.

They were here to collect the housing for what was to be Erebor’s most prestigious commission to date; a necklace of pure white-gold that shone like silver, set with white gems of pure starlight. 

The metal had been sourced from the best mines in the Mountain while the gems had been sent straight from Mirkwood itself. They were unlike anything Eleonóra had ever seen and had spent days captivated by their ethereal glow as she and her finest craftsman had sketched designs for their housings.

Diamonds were the primary export from her family mine and she employed the best crafters in the mountain to work with the transparent gems; eager to find ways of displaying them that wouldn’t dim their beauty. There had been no arguments when her men were selected to work with the unusual jewels.

The final sketch had been approved and sent back from Mirkwood a few weeks earlier and the housing had finally been completed by other dwarf workers before being set upon her benches yesterday.

She had spent the day watching her men painstakingly prepare the gems for setting and the final touches had been made this morning. She was more than eager to see the finished product.

“It’s been an honour to work on King Thranduil’s project.” She told Thorin as they approached the bench holding only a plump cushion. The necklace would be cradled atop it, as they always were when being presented, but she could already see some of the starlight glowing from the crushed velvet and fought the urge to run to it.

“The honour will be his when he is in possession of dwarf mastery.” He said with a half-smile as they finally reached the table and Eleonóra let out a gasp at the sight of the piece. “And mastery it is.” He murmured from beside her as he reached across the bench to shake hands with the nervous crafters waiting behind it. “Excellent job, gentlemen.” He continued to thank each one personally as Eleonóra reached out to touch the gems.

They were warm to the touch; it still baffled her. Every other gem she had ever held had been cold as though still a part of the rock it had been chipped from, but these were warm as though the stars themselves were encased inside. It wasn’t possible, she knew that, but their unnatural glow and the feeling of otherworld-ness that surrounded them continued to fascinate her.

“Ellie?” Thorin’s voice broke her from her reprieve and the small crease between his brows suggested he’d called her name a number of times. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course.” She straightened from the necklace and looked to her workforce. “Just checking it over.” She explained. “You’ve outdone yourself.” She beamed. “It’s perfect.”

The dwarves relaxed in front of her as they shared her smile. This had been a demanding project, she knew that; the Elven King was set to arrive within the week and any error on this piece would be immediately noted. Not that she’d ever doubted them.

“I’ll have it collected this evening.” Thorin told them as it was lifted from the cushion and placed inside a small, almost flat box. “Thank you again.”

The men bowed once as the box was tucked beneath one’s arm and they disappeared.

“Thranduil should be pleased that we didn’t use all of the gems he sent over.” Eleonóra commented as Thorin once again offered his arm to her. “Though why he thought we’d need an entire chest full for one simple necklace baffles me. How big is his Queen’s neck?”

* * *

The battlements were one of her favourite places in the entirety of Erebor. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the spectacular views afforded to her as she stood so high in the mountain or if it were simply the fact that up here, with cool breezes caressing her face, she was so very far from the pits that had claimed her father.

Either way, it was her sanctuary and one of the few places here that she could actually be alone; or as alone as one can be with a royal guard hiding at the entrance.

This was her favourite balcony; it was hidden from view as you approached the mountain but when you were stood on the smooth stone you could see for miles. Dale was full of life today, she mused; the children were playing through its streets and she could hear the din of market traders battling for trade from even this far out. But there was a comfort in that noise; so different from the endless clanging of mining and she lapped it up like a cat at a saucer of milk.

Eyes closed to the breeze, her lips quirked into a soft smile as a pair of boots joined her on the stone. With an almost silent dismissal of her guard, Thorin stepped out into the sunshine and joined her at the stone battlements.

“How did it go?” She asked, not turning to him. “Did the Elves like it?”

“They loved it; Thranduil was speechless.” Her smile bloomed at that.

“Thank Mahal; the men put blood, sweat and tears into that. I hope Her Majesty likes it too.”

“She’ll never see it.” Her eyes opened as a crease formed between her brows. She turned to him, taking in his strained face and the impeccable clothing he wore for the Elven King’s visit to the mountain.

“What?”

“My Grandfather refused to hand it over.”

“What do you-”

“He’s ill.” He explained with a sigh. “Has been for a while.”

“Is he okay? I haven’t seen him for a few weeks but I just assumed he was busy.”

“He is; busy counting coins.” He rested his elbows on a gap in the stone and held his head in his hands. “They say it’s a sickness of the mind. All the healers have tried but no one can get through to him.”

“A sickness of the mind? Like a fever?”

“He spends his days in the treasury, Ellie.” He told her, tilting his head a little to meet her eyes. “He just stands there amongst piles of treasure and won’t let anyone near it as though he thinks we’re to steal it from him. You should have seen the way he smiled when the necklace was taken from Thranduil; it was unlike anything I’ve ever seen he was…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. “The councillors are saying that the Elves refused to pay. It’s all lies; I saw the money myself.”

“What happens now?”

“I have no idea.” He admitted, letting his hands slip from his face and allow him to stare out across the land. “The Mirkwood Elves are known to hold grudges and my Grandfather all but said that the Queen wasn’t fit to wear it; he slighted her to her husband’s face.” He blew out a sigh before turning to her again. “It could mean war.”

“Over a necklace?” Her hands were at her throat, fingers toying with the chain of gems she’d been instructed to don this morning.

“Over my Grandfather’s fitness to rule.” He corrected. “He hasn’t attended a council meeting in months and my father just keeps walking out of them…ever since that damn stone.”

She didn’t need to ask which stone; the whole of Erebor knew the one that had captivated the King.

 _The Arkenstone_.

Thror had named it the King’s Jewel. He took it as a sign that his right to rule was divine and declared that all would pay homage to him and the cloudy stone with a heart of fire. It sat above him, embedded in the stone throne of the Mountain and stared down on all who entered the throne room as though the Mountain itself were judging them.

“Is there nothing we can do?”

“We?”

“You don’t honestly think I’m going to let you shoulder this alone for any longer?” She asked, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “What can I do to help?”

“Drag my Grandfather from the treasury and chain him to his bed?”

“An excellent plan Your Highness…but probably not the way to deal with this.” He let out a soft laugh at that and Eleonóra took it as a good sign.

“There’s nothing we can do.” He told her straightening and taking her dainty hand into his own large one. “Eventually he’ll have counted everything in there and then maybe it’ll pass.”

It had to, Eleonóra thought; for all their sakes.

* * *

It didn’t pass. If anything, it had gotten worse.

They were struggling to hide it now; the King’s absence from council meetings and civilian petitions in the throne room was starting to show and whispers were flying through the hollowed-out mountain.

 _They’re just curious_ – that’s what she’d said to Thorin when he’d come to her with his fists in his hair and tears in his eyes. _You can’t blame them, you’d be curious too_ – She said, hand brushing down his back as he curled and uncurled his fists as images of his grandfather surrounded by gold merged with hushed whispers in his mind. _They love him; love all of you, don’t be angry_ – She’d counselled as he and Frerin appeared on her sofa with identical looks of worry and stress written in their face.

Dis was oblivious, that was the only thing that was keeping them calm; the love the Durin brothers had for their little sister was giving them the energy they needed to continue to conceal the truth from the world.

But she knew. She knew because Thorin told her. They’d grown even closer in the months since Thranduil’s visit and were rarely seen apart now; whether it be simply walking to and from meetings where his exposure to the world of governance was becoming faster and more immersive every time, or simply in a quiet nook with his hands in hers as he softly unloaded his growing worries.

But today he was the one tending to her, despite her ardent protests at the ludicrousness of the Crown Prince tending to her (someone merely referred to as; My Lady) scrapes.

“There is no need for this, Thorin.” She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in a handful of minutes. “I’m perfectly capable of-”

“Stop arguing and sit down.” She rolled her eyes at his order, much to the amusement of the army of maids trailing into the parlour of the royal family, but obliged and perched on the edge of a small armchair. “Thank you.” He dismissed the women as they laid out the last of the supplies he’d called for. “I can take it from here.”

“If you’re going to insist on this at least let me see a real healer.”

“Do you not trust me?” He asked, a flash of amusement in his eyes until the settled on what she assumed was a still bleeding gash at her hairline.

“With my life.” She promised as he shut the door and closed them off from the rest of the mountain. “But my face? That is another matter altogether – I’ve seen your attempts at darning a shirt.”

The tease barely got a raised corner of his lip in response and she sighed. The fact that he’d bellowed for medical supplies upon finding her in the treasury; hand to her head to try and stem blood loss while the other battled to keep an incensed King Thror from her, was bad enough but now with this insistence to treat her himself...

“You’re over-reacting.” She whispered as he picked up a small bowl of water and a cloth from the heap of supplies. “You should be with your grandfather.” She said, her and on his wrist stilling any further movements. “He needs you.”

“ **You** need me.”

“I’ve seen worse cuts on the guards after training with blunt swords.” She told him, taking the cloth from his hand. “He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“But he did.” He said, voice hoarse as slipped the bowl from his hold too. “Which proves how far from himself he truly is.”

“Thorin-”

“He pushed you and kept pushing you after you’d fallen.” He reminded her. “Is that my grandfather?”

She had nothing to say to that. She’d seen how far gone the King was for herself today and it wasn’t something she was looking to repeat anytime soon.

It had started so innocently with a request from the broken prince stood before her to simply accompany Thror on his daily, hours long visit to the treasury as he had to attend a last-minute trade negotiation. She’d agreed without hesitation – Thror was a grandfather figure to her too and she’d always enjoyed spending time with him as he regaled the youngest members of his family with tales of eras past.

It had started well with the King barely noticing that she was even there once his eyes had settled on the piles and piles of gold on the mountains most secure level. So, she’d simply stood back and watched as he meticulously counted everything he could before wandering off to bask in the glory of his treasury.

When he’d returned and found her sat on a step with a gold coin between her fingers as she tried and failed to determine what he found so alluring, that’s when all hell had broken loose.

The guards had been quick to descend from their posts as the King’s hand had clamped around her upper arm, hauled her to her feet and all but thrown her into the nearest pile of coins all while hissing curses of theft and promises of execution.  But they hadn’t been quick enough or prepared enough for the aging dwarf’s unexpected strength as he pulled and pushed her over and over again until she’d slammed her head on something hard and metallic.

They were barely restraining the King by the time Thorin had breathlessly arrived – his father hot on his heels. Thrain had taken charge of his father immediately and was escorting him gently from the room as Thorin arrived at her spot. The room had been spinning and the sheer quantity of gold around her was doing little to settle it.

She’d waved away offers of carrying her back to her rooms with a reminder that the King was their first priority, not her. But one person had stayed at her elbow as she regained her footing and she hadn’t had the heart, or the stability, to shake him off.

And that’s how she’d ended up here; in an armchair with an overprotective dwarf whose gaze was fixed on the almost invisible line on her forehead.

“If you so much as come near me with a needle…” She said, leaning back in the seat as a silent acceptance of his wishes. “…I’ll break your wrist.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He mumbled, ripping a strip of cloth and dipping it in the warm water. “You couldn’t even walk in a straight line five minutes ago.”

“Is that a chal-” She hissed as he pressed the cloth to the cut.

“I thought there was nothing wrong with you?” He asked, eyebrow arched as he continued to dab at the cut.

“Stop being smug and get on with it.” She huffed, choosing not to mention the dull ache in her ribs after landing on a particularly hard set of concealed steps under one of the larger gold piles. “Would you do me a favour?” She asked, peering up at him as he dropped the cloth stained with small blotches of red into the water. “Don’t tell Dis.”

“I hadn’t planned to.”

“Not about your grandfather.” She clarified as he reached for a bandage. “About why I’ll have a bandage peeking out of my hair – just tell her its anything but a bandage.”

“One would almost think you’re not a fan of my sister’s overbearing nursing.”

“I think one stubborn Durin insisting I receive treatment is enough.” She told him, smiling at his chuckle. “I can’t take another bought of her forcing me into bedrest and force-feeding me soup.”

Two weeks of Dis playing matron when she’d contracted flu from Frerin after the blonde Durin had insisted ‘there’s nothing wrong with me’ with a sniffle, was more than enough for the next decade.

“Favour granted.” He promised, wincing slightly of his own treatment when he too had come down with a temperature after a visit to the two patients and joining their game of cards. “But the lie will have to be of your concocting.” He nodded to the bandage and she groaned as she felt around it.

“Could you have cut a larger piece of bandage?” She asked with a huff as she investigated it with her fingertips to determine its actual size. “It’s practically an eye-patch.”

“Now who’s over-reacting?” He asked, laughing again as he collected up the supplies used and deposited them next to the mountain that he’d called for – just in case. She rolled her eyes at him again as she continued to prod around the tiny cut and its unnecessary cover. “Stop playing with it.”

“How am I going to explain this?” She asked with an arched brow. “Hmm? How am I going to play this off in front of your family?”

“Just…rearrange your hair.”

“I’m not a wizard, Thorin.” She said deadpan. “This is big enough to require its own territory in Middle Earth – I can’t just ‘rearrange’ around it.”

“Sit there.” He huffed as he pointed to the sofa to her right. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Even Mahal couldn’t hide this.” She told him, pushing up from the chair and falling to sit cross-legged on the cushioned seat.

He ignored her and moved to sit facing her, eyes roaming over her hair as he mused on how to fix it.

“Turn around.” He instructed and she shifted accordingly on the seat.

“Tell me about the meeting.” She said as his fingers began to slide the pins from her braid and unwind the intricate bun. “Did you secure the trade deal.”

“We did.” He murmured as his fingers began to tease the loose tendrils of her hair into a new style. “I was on my way to tell you when…”

“It wasn’t his fault, Thorin.” She said again, her voice soft. “He’s not himself.”

“My grandfather has always been the strongest of us; he recolonised this mountain, secured his line and had reigned successfully and prosperously for over 200 years.” He said as she leant back into his hands as a braid began to take shape. “If anyone was going to fall foul to some illness of the mind, I would have betted on my father.”

She understood; Thrain was a good man but had little interest in anything outside of the mountain. Apparently, it had taken decades for him to actually attend a meeting and even then had disappeared half way through it. She knew he’d been affected deeply by the loss of his wife and the daughter she’d left behind who was a mirror image of the woman Thrain had loved, but it didn’t excuse his actions, or lack of, anymore.

“Maybe it’s in our blood.” He surmised. “Waiting to affect us all when our time comes.” A gentle tug on her hair was her cue to turn back to him and her heart broke at what she found.

His face was tight with worry again; the line that shouldn’t be appearing until far into his own reign becoming more and more prominent in his young face while his tired eyes lacked the twinkle that had always drawn her in.

“Thorin.” She breathed, taking his hand. “Don’t say such things.”

“What if it’s the truth?” He asked, reaching up to push a tendril of fallen hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “What if I am destined to meet the same fate? I can’t do that to these people Ellie.”

“You won’t.” She assured him, squeezing his hand as the backs of his fingers slowly trailed down her cheek. “I won’t let you.”

“I-”

“Frerin told me that you fell.” Thorin let out a sigh at the sound of his sister’s voice as she burst into the room. “What happened? Are you well? Ellie?” The princess asked as Thorin pulled away from her, the blonde not having realised how close they’d been until his absence made her eyes flutter closed.

“I’m fine.” She forced her voice to say as she accepted Thorin’s outstretched hand and stood from the sofa; her dress swaying around her.

“What’s the matter?” Dis asked with a frown as she studied the pair. “Why are there so many medicine kits in here?”

“Just stocking up for when Frerin inevitably hurts himself again.” Ellie forced a smile, dropping Thorin’s hand and moving to Dis. “Let’s get some air.” She said, taking her arm and guiding her to the door a faint smile on her lips as she caught sight of herself in a mirror and noted the sweep of hair covering the bandage and its seamless flow into the braid curing over her shoulder.

Their eyes met only once as she turned to close the door behind her and the responding thump of her heart as she found an intensity in his that had never before been there, had her questioning a lot.

* * *

 

_Slowly, the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in. Thror’s love of gold had grown too fierce; a sickness had taken hold within him; a sickness of the mind._

_And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow._

 


	2. A Fire Drake from the North

 

_The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in a hot, dry wind._

* * *

 He’d escaped another meeting that his grandfather had failed to show up to before his father in the hopes that his absence would force the future king to actually stay for the duration and not leave early. The councillors had seemed to accept his story about being needed in the forges without hesitation but the prince had failed to turn onto one of the sloping pathways that would take him deeper into the mountain when a glimmer of sunlight had called to him.

He was on another balcony; carved inwards into the mountain to maintain its untouched façade, and was trying to focus on something, anything, that would let his mind unclasp the fact that days had passed since he’d last spoken to her.

Distracted was not a word the people of Erebor had ever associated with their Crown Prince but Thorin was struggling to find a better way of describing his state of mind. He couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t his grandfather’s rapid deterioration or how soft Lady Eleonóra’s skin had been under his knuckles as they’d come closer and closer together. He loved his sister, truly he did, but the thought of strangling her had popped into his mind more than once as he lamented how close they’d been and then how fast they’d separated at the sound of her voice.

The air around him was still as he gazed out over the plains of Middle-Earth; eyes skipping over Dale as carts ran to-and-fro from this fortress to its markets.

He hadn’t realised how much he’d come to depend on her presence in his life until she’d stopped appearing in it. When a longing to touch her again and press his lips to hers had stirred inside him he didn’t know, but he did know that it was there now and he wanted nothing more than to find her and kiss her and…

A soft wind caught his hair; forcing the mane of ebony to blow out behind him slightly. He frowned. The wind came again, stronger and more insistent. Kits appeared in the skies above Dale as children wasted no time in taking full advantage of this unexpected break in the weather. Because that’s exactly what it was; unexpected.

They’d been suffering through a heatwave of sorts lately; something not uncommon in this area of Middle Earth, and Thorin pitied the villagers as the dwarves were constantly cooled by the complicated pipe system they relied on to carry all water up and down the mountain. A cooling breeze hadn’t been predicted to arrive for another month or so, and even then, it wasn’t supposed to be so…powerful.

He wanted to continue to simply stand there; basking in the reprieve but something was nagging at him, something that wasn’t his grandfather or Ellie. He couldn’t understand why this made him so uneasy; a breeze was just a breeze.

Except when it wasn’t.

Terror gripped at his heart as he descended from the balcony and broke into a run. The main battlements were, as always, heavily guarded and the men stationed there seemed only too happy to not question the source of the wind and just bask in it.

The appearance of Balin comforted him a little – if he too was concerned then Thorin’s uneasiness was not unfounded. They shared a look of worry as a new wave of wind hit them; far more powerful than any that had come before as the trees around their home began to bow under its pressure.

The skies greyed over and the clouds swirled and Thorin knew then that all that time in the royal library trying to sate his thirst for knowledge had been well spent. One glance to the flags as they fought to remain on their poles and one intake of the now hot, dry wind that surrounded them was all he needed.

“Balin, sound the alarm.” He instructed, one hand on his sword as he readied himself for what was to come. “Call out the guard; do it now!”

“What is it?” The greying man asked, confusion on his face as he tried to see what Thorin had seen.

“Dragon.” He told him quickly, rushing to the back of the battlements and the perch that overlooked one of the main layers of the mountain. He took a single breath, sent a quick prayer to Mahal and leant over to shout: “DRAGON!”

That was when the fire started. A roar broke through the air as trees became alight with an intensity Thorin had never before seen in flames. The stream of fire turned to them and Thorin had no chance to think before he was leaping forward and pulling Balin behind a pillar as flame surrounded them and ended the screams of the unprepared guards as quickly as they had started.

* * *

 

_It was a fire drake from the north. Smaug had come._

 

* * *

 She’d heard his shout; had been on her way to find him – to speak with him. It had been their first and only alarm that something that had only ever plagued them in nightmares, was here.

She’d had one look at his ashen face before he was leaping away again with fire fillign the spot he;d held within seconds. Her heart twisted and she wanted to vomit but with more and more dragon fire filling the space above, she turned and broke out into a run; her skirts bunched in her fists as she rounded corners and took steps two at a time.

“Run!” She was screaming as she ran through the corridors of the royal wings. “Dragon!”

People were pushing past her leaving her to fight against the current of fear as she headed for the one place the news would not yet have reached; would not reach until it was too late.

“Come with me.” She was breathless as she burst into the princess’ sitting room. “Take my hand and come with me.”

“Ellie?” Dis set her teacup down with a frown. “What in Mahal’s name-”

“Dragon.” It was all she could say to explain as she crossed the room, took Dis by the wrist and hauled her from her chair. She cared little about the young Lord sat opposite or the chaperone in the corner as she dragged Dis out of the room and urged her into a run down the newly deserted corridors.

They could hear screams. They were everywhere as they rushed out into a main layer of the mountain. Ellie swallowed down bile at the sight of bright red bursting through every crack of the mountain; flaying those who got in its way.

They wasted no time in reaching the ground level and Ellie felt a tear slip down her face at the sight of broken stone and charred bodies of fallen soldiers through the plumes of smoke filling the air.

Dis had said nothing since she’d hauled her from the sitting room, only the occasional sob had broken free from the young girl and Ellie promised herself that she would only stop to comfort her when the mountain was far in the distance.

“Father!” The cry broke from Dis in a sob as her eyes landed on the form of a panting Thrain as he stood on the entry bridge.

Ellie released her immediately and watched as she ran forward into his waiting arms. _Dis is safe_. She told herself. _And Thrain_. She glanced around trying to count off all the members of the family that had taken her in. _Thror._ She added at the sight of the King, tears in his eys and crown askew as he gazed up at the burning mountain. _And Frerin._ The boy who could have been her twin was trying to pull his grandfather away.

But she couldn’t see _him_. Her eyes fought through the smoke and her arms pushed past fleeing dwarves until she found him, staring up past the burning ruins of Dale to a clifftop and the retreating army of Elves.

“Thorin.” He jumped at the sound of her broken voice and tore his eyes from the moose-riding King.

“The guards found you.” He said, reaching up to clasp her shoulders. “I didn’t think they’d have enough time to-”

“What guards?” She asked. “I was on the level below the battlements.” She told him. “I heard you and then I got Dis.” She nodded to the crying princess in her father’s arms a handful of steps away.

“You knew there was a dragon and you ran further into the mountain…to save my sister.”

“News wouldn’t have reached in time.” She said, frowning at the wide-eyed look he was giving her as his hand slid down her arms to take her hands. “I couldn’t leave her.”

“We have to go.” Frerin’s voice broke through the little bubble that had formed around them. “No one else is coming out.” He nodded to the empty entrance to the mountain and the huge hole Smaug had created when he’d broken through. “We have to go.” He repeated, one hand on his grandfather and the other gripping his unsheathed sword; the usually glistening metal now a dull grey as smoke and dust clung to it.

“Where?” Dis asked, looking up from her father’s hold. “Our home is gone.”

“No, the mountain is gone.” Ellie told her, swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat. “Our home…” She dropped one of Thorin’s hands as she turned to them; letting the other be her anchor as he gave it a soft squeeze. “…is with our people.”

* * *

_Such wanton death was dealt that day, the city of Men was nothing to Smaug as he engulfed it in flame; his eye had been set on another prize. For dragons covet gold, with a dark and fierce desire._

_Thranduil had not risked the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the Elves as they turned away that day, or any day since._

_Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness; a once mighty people brought low._

_The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it; labouring in the villages of men as Lady Eleonóra fought to keep his family and their people together through the hard times._

_Erebor had been lost but always they remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright. For they had seen dragon fire in the sky and their city turned to ash; and he never forgave, and she never forgot._


	3. Gundabad Orcs and Hallowed Halls

Moria was not the haven they’d hoped for. The ancient homeland of Dwarves, endless source of gold and Mithril, was overrun with Gundabad Orcs who had absolutely no desire to had it back over to the exhausted dwarves.

And so, they had battled for it: 10,00 dwarves of Erebor had taken up arms and marched into Azanulbizar…very few returned.

Eleonóra knew little of what had happened out there on the killing fields with all dwarves who hadn’t been battle trained ordered to stay behind and ready for the wounded to arrive. But she had been present in the main tent of the makeshift settlement the dwarves had constructed when plans had been drawn up.

Strategies and positions washed over her in a haze as she sat in a high-backed chair that had been found and used to make the poor conditions more liveable. Thror was better; that had been her main thought as she watched him pour over maps. Apparently, distance from the gold and the promise that if he returned he’d be incinerated by a giant, fire-breathing lizard had been enough to shake him from his downward spiral. Thrain was more at ease too; the famed warrior far more at home here on a dusty, dead plain waiting to slice down legions of Orcs, than he ever would be at a council meeting.

And then there were the youngest Durin’s. Frerin had escaped the mountain in his full guard uniform and had carted it along with him every day since, happy in the knowledge that if it came to war; he’d be ready.

Thorin wasn’t. Though he was trained and had excelled in all areas of combat, the Prince was reading the charts in front of him with a furrowed brow. He didn’t understand how it had come to this; how they had lost their home and their birth-rights due to greed. He was angry too. She’d seen it in the set of his shoulders as he’d forgone the little luxuries his people had offered to him and taken up station at whatever they could use as makeshift forges.

Dwarven precision was legendary but the way he’d hammered at the molten metal, so full of hatred and confusion and sadness, had led to the production of some of the finest weapons they’d ever wield. It was heart breaking.

Dis had been so full of questions the night before they’d set off; where would they position themselves? How had they distributed the weaponry? Had they left any behind in case the Orcs arrived here?

No one had answered her as Thrain, Thorin and Frerin filled the hours until they needed to retire with sword sharpening and the checking of supplies. Ellie had been forced to use what little knowledge she’d gleamed from the dusty tomes of Erebor to ease her angst enough for her to fall asleep.

Then she’d sat by the firelight with a silent son of Durin on either side. Frerin too retired eventually and then there was only her and Thorin, knees close as she studied the light reflecting off the matte leather of the boots she’d bartered for in the last village they’d passed through.

“How are you?” He’d asked, neither looking away from the fire.

“Scared.” She’d told him honestly. “Scared that no one will return. Sacred of what I’ll have to say to them if that happens. Scared you’ll be killed and I won’t have said goodbye.”

“If the worst happens…” He’d begun, clearing his throat as he finally looked up from the flames and to the camp around them. “…I know you’ll lead them well.”

“Me? Lead?” She’d asked. “There are others here far more capable of leading them.” She’d reminded him. “Balin for one.”

“Balin is a good man…but they’ll need someone young enough to inspire hope.” He’d said. “And that’s you.” He’d reached into the pocket of his tunic and pulled out a locket with the seal of Durin stamped into the gold. “I was going to give it you that day.” He’d explained as they both looked down at it in his hand.

“Thorin…” She’d breathed. “…it was your mother’s…I couldn’t…”

“I’ve spoken to my father.” He’d said. “And he agrees; if something goes wrong tomorrow and none of us…” He’d trailed off and she’d nodded at what he’d alluded to. “…then this is our endorsement…of you.”

“Me?”

“They’re going to need a leader and this will be unquestionable – it’s solid proof that we’ve chosen you to succeed us.” He ran his thumb over the locket. “Balin will help you; advise you on what to do and where to go. The Blue Mountains are our only hope if Moria cannot be reclaimed and he will help you get them all there. All we ask is that when Dis is old enough, she be given a chance to rule or her children be given the chance.”

“Thorin…I can’t…I’m no Queen.”

“You ran deeper into Erebor, knowing that you may never get back out, to save my sister.” He’d reminded her his eyes fixed to hers. “You reminded my people that we don’t need a mountain when we have each other. You’re the one who distributed packs that you’d personally bartered for to ensure they survive this journey.” The locket had slid into her hold. “And that is why we choose you.”

“I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” She’d promised, her fingers curling around the cold metal as his outstretched hand inched closer and closer to her in a silent refusal to accept no as an answer. “When you come back to me; I’ll give it back to you.”

He’d simply pressed a kiss to her temple before standing and striding to his tent without a backwards glance.

That was last night.

They were gone by the time she’d woken and the locket was like lead in her pocket as she’d moved through the cam making sure everyone was prepared for the soldiers when they returned.

They could hear it all from the small camp; the battle was raging just over the tallest of peaks that hid their small valley. They could hear cries and the clang of steel on steel as their people fought onwards for their home. And so the camp was fairly quiet; with people only making noise when they had to as everyone, young and old, kept an ear out for any clue as to who was winning.

That was the only reason the scouting party of orcs had been noticed; the three uglies had made a little too much noise in their approach and were met by sharp glares and even sharper swords.

The first had died quickly as she was forcing Dis into their tent. The other two were putting up one hell of a fight though and had disabled and gutted the two armed men Thror had instructed to stay and defend the camp should this exact situation occur.

Now they each had a dwarf in their hold; their swords pressing cruelly to the soft skin of their necks as they laughed at the pitiful defence the camp had put up.

“Any last words, dwarves?”

* * *

His grandfather was dead…so was his brother…and his father was missing…but they had won.

Or so they kept telling him.

All he could focus on was the image of his grandfather’s head rolling towards him as that giant of an Orc had smirked down at him. And then he was weapon-less; his sword and shield knocked from his hold with two swings of the Orc’s mighty warhammer. He’d acted entirely on instinct after that and hadn’t even realised that what he’d grabbed to defend himself with was the fallen branch of an oaken tree.

He’d been exhausted, still was, when he’d held off the pale orc for as long as possible with that flimsy shield until a sword was within grasp and he was slicing through the air with his last bought of energy.

He’d die from blood loss alone; the wound had been inflicted too far up his arm for it to be salvageable and so Thorin cared little that the orc had been scooped up and returned to the depths of Moria before he could give a killing blow. Azog the Defiler was no longer his problem.

His problem was the two dead bodies lying far up the valley slopes with their throats cut and their eyes wide. He ignored the prone form of one single orc at their sides and with his heart hammering in his chest, forcing him to feel something since news had reached them that Frerin’s party had failed to cut through the orc hordes beneath the East Gate of Khazad-dûm and had died in a wood near the Mirrormere, he stepped over the bodies and broke into a run down the grassy slopes and towards the deathly silent camp.

He could hear his brethren close behind as every dwarf that had limped off that bloody battlefield suddenly found a new reserve of energy to reach the camp of innocents which, if decimated by an unnoticed orc pack, would render this win pointless.

“She just spat at him in Khuzdul and then they were both dead!” His sister’s excited voice filling the air as they reached the outskirts of the camp was enough to bring a tear to his eye; she was safe. And judging by the flurry of dwarves appearing to help the injured to beds that had been set up specifically for the wounded, they all were. The orc must have been alone and his men were able to defeat it before their last breaths.

“Dis.” His voice was hoarse as he called out to her, dropping his sword into the grass as she barrelled into his arms, caring little for the blood and dirt that caked him.

“Did we win?” She asked, peering up at him with such innocence that he longed to simply lock her away from this cruel world forever.

“We did, namad.” He breathed, letting his mother tongue fall from his lips as she broke out into a smile. “Azanulbizar is clear.”

“So is the camp.” She told him smiling brightly. “Ellie defended us all.” He frowned at her words and let her step from his hold and take him by the hand through the camp and towards a patch of rocks just off its outskirts. “They had two of the merchants by the throats and they were just smirking at us and said _any last words, dwarves?_ ” He couldn’t take his eyes off the two bodies; one was missing its head and the other had a clean slice on his chest just over its heart. “And she came from nowhere and just-”

“What are you talking about, Dis?” He asked, unable to let her ramble on any longer. “Who did this?”

“Ellie.” She told him. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Ellie killed two orcs…alone?” He asked, his eyes studying the neat kills in a mix of shock and awe. “Ellie?”

“Yes.” She told him, beaming again. “And it was so amazing! She even spat a last line at them like in all those stories father used to tell us.” He faltered at the mention of their father but let her continue. “ _Uslikhith_.” She spat, doing her best impression of her idolised friend as Thorin felt a small smile tug at his lips.

It honestly didn’t surprise him as much as it probably should have; she’d been trained with a sword since joining their family and had grown quite proficient at knocking Frerin off his feet by the time she’d been forced to put the weapons down and focus on Dis.

What did surprise him was that he still had the ability to laugh after today. After all that bloodshed and the deaths of three-fifths of his blood family, Dis had managed to make him laugh with a story that should be unbelievable.

“Is it true?” His smile died at her broken voice and he turned from the dead orcs to find her stood a few paces away, eyes red and hands wrung with his mother’s chain dangling from them. “The men told me that…” Her words died as he glanced to the remnants of Frerin’s troop. “…but I don’t want to believe them.”

“He’s gone.” He confirmed, his grief filling him once more as all thoughts of Lady Eleonóra spitting the word ‘runts’ at a pair of orcs before killing them, left him and he was reminded of what had happened just over the ledge behind her. “They all are.”

“Nadad?” Dis asked, stepping forward to take his hand. “What are you talking about?”

“Father, grandfather and Frerin…” He began his voice breaking as the first kernels of realisation dawned on her face as she scanned the camp for any sign of them. “…they-”

“No.” She cut across him. “No.” She repeated, her eyes filling as she took a step away from him. “They can’t be gone; have you checked? Maybe they’re still up there and-” She collapsed into sobs as Ellie stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace, whispering softly into her hair as the girl howled at their loss.

He made to turn and leave them knowing he could do nothing to soothe her pain. He stopped when he saw an outstretched hand and instead of turning from the pair he let Ellie pull him closer and into a comforting embrace with Dis still crying steadily into her tunic.

“They are at peace; in the digondamaar of Mahal.” She whispered, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek as she grieved for another family lost.

Thorin watched as Dis clung to her tunic, her fists white as she fought against the sobs wracking through her small body and Ellie desperately tried to keep it together for her sake; to be the anchor Dis needed right now despite her own all-consuming grief.

He watched them and held them and blocked out the rest of the dwarves, ensuring that they got this one moment of peace before all hell broke loose again. For news was spreading of their King’s demise and the loss of his only son.

Thorin looked up from their little huddle and felt all eyes turn to them - turn to him, for he was their King now and he would fight until his last breath to protect the woman and child in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English translations:
> 
> Namad - Sister  
> Nadad - Brother  
> Uslikhith - Runts  
> Digondamaar - The golden halls


	4. A Changed Face

Life in the Blue Mountains was hard but after spending so long trudging across Middle Earth with the dwarves of Erebor at their backs, the simple monotony that Ered Luin offered was a luxury to everyone.

It had been hard but rewarding work to establish a brand-new settlement on the land gifted to them by the Dwarf Houses of the mountain range and Thorin knew he would never be able to repay their generosity in offering up a large chunk of territory for the homeless dwarves.

The colony was beyond successful and his people were thriving but this mountain was not the one they deserved: their simple homes were quaint in comparison to the opulence that Erebor had offered to all who sought residence in its halls. He was restless here now that the hardest part of forming a new kingdom, a new home, was over.

They’d dug deep into the mountain and used the iron ore they found as the bedrock for their civilisation. The metal had allowed them to resume their noble art of crafting fine pieces and soon enough they were trading with other dwarven colonies along the mountain range and even further into lands of Men. Their trade routes were still thriving even now; many years after first settling here in makeshift tents with hearts full of hope and minds bursting with plans.

Their numbers had swollen too and Thorin felt his heart thump harder with every new birth that graced them despite knowing that these precious children would never see their true homeland.

He was no ruler here and he found he enjoyed it. The people still looked up to him and he attended each meeting of the Dwarven settlements as the sole representative of this kingdom, but he wore no crown and sat upon no throne. He was more of an elected figure now, if anything. He was warmed by his people’s unyielding loyalty to him and his family and so continued to give his all to them, whether it be in negotiations or at his forge where he charged only enough to put food on his table.

And so, while Eruid Luin would never be his true home, he did all he could to make it everyone else’s.

Dis was older now but a child still, despite her being the image of his mother and it jarring him every time he saw her; hair cascading down her back as her head was thrown back in laughter at whatever was being said to her at the market. She was beloved amongst her people and was often found with a crowd of children around her as she taught them some dance that Ellie had taught her only days prior.

Ellie.

She was the true saviour of Durin’s folk. She had been at his side through it all; the initial arrival at Erid Luin, the night they celebrated till the sun came up after finding their first load of iron and now, with so much time having passed, she was still there; keeping Dis in line as she tried to impart every iota of knowledge she could onto the girl.

Their home was small, with she and Dis sharing a room, but the blonde had never complained and had even thanked him for allowing her to stay with them. He had simply stared at her in disbelief before dragging her into the house. As if he could be without her.

And so they were the guiding light amongst the people; King Thorin, Princess Dis and Lady Eleonóra.

He smiled at how right those three names sounded together as he made his way through the bustling settlement; a pack that this morning had been heavy with his lunch and a few spare tools now light on his back as the sun dipped behind the mountain range and he made his way home.

The house was warm when he arrived and the unmistakeable smell of fresh bread hit him as soon as he closed the door behind him. This was his favourite part of the day; the few heartbeats of silence as he leant against the wooden door and let himself relax of all the taughtness he held within himself when he ventured out and faced his people.

He still felt guilty for not being able to give them better. Felt guilty for making them journey so far.

The day after Azanulbizar still hung heavily over him; he knew he should have done more but he was so tired and every time he tried to close his eyes he could see his grandfather’s head rolling down the stones of Moria. He’d been utterly useless as Ellie had slipped that simple locket into his hand, whispered that he should go rest somewhere and had herself stood up to help form a new plan of action.

 _“This is not a worthy home. Not now that we know Orcs have desecrated such sacred halls with their mere presence in them.”_  He could still hear her say as he trudged from the gathered generals and appointed leaders of their people. _“We need to venture further.”_ Balin had stood at her side and the image of her; one hand on the sword hanging at her waist, had been the one he needed to clear his mind of just enough worry to allow sleep to sneak its way in. _“Ered Luin is a dwarven stronghold; that is where our future lay.”_

She’d been right of course. The people here had accepted them without question and Ellie had continued to march forward until everyone had gathered in the centre of their new, barren home. She had helped erect tents and soothed children and when all were safe and well, she took one step into their tent, swayed on her feet and had been out cold before Thorin had managed to catch her.

He wondered if they’d ever get back to how life was before Smaug; when everything was so uncomplicated and his feelings for her grew with each day. They hadn’t had the chance to breathe since Erebor was lost but now, with everything finally starting to settle and his people prospering, maybe he had enough room in his mind to figure out if all was lost between them.

Perhaps it was. Perhaps they’d spent too long simply trying to survive together that living was impossible.

* * *

She should be married by now.

It was all that was on her mind lately and she hated herself for it. She told herself that it was all because of that stupid offer of betrothment that Dis had received. She still hadn’t told Thorin; couldn’t face the fallout of him losing his last living relative to someone he would no doubt deem unworthy.

Dis loved him though; loved that man who had experienced the same hardships but had rebuilt his life, and she took comfort in that. The pair had spent many a night tucked up together as Dis gleefully whispered about the young man she’d first met on the road to Ered Luin.

They had been children then and already exposed to such horrors that it had been natural for them to grow close and as he grew up and made a name for himself among the new generation of iron merchant’s, he and Dis had grown even closer.

Ellie had spent the last three days ensuring that this was exactly what Dis wanted before she even considered telling Thorin. She’d assured her that there was no need for a marriage; that she could wait a few more years, but Dis had persisted with it and after taking tea with his mother this afternoon and making it clear that they had little to offer as a dowry, she was finally ready to broach the subject with Thorin.

After all, how could they turn down a family who had waved away the notion of a wedding dowry?

She heaved a sigh and blew away the strand of hair that had fallen from her braid as she carted the almost full bucket of water from the communal pump - running water to every household was still something they were working on and something she very much wished would happen soon – her poor arms were going to fall off otherwise. Though she did enjoy the numerous daily trips to and from the pump where she had the chance to actually be amongst her own kin and share a laugh or two with their tales of finding peace here before she struggled home to continue with her chores.

The door of their small home slammed shut behind her as she caught it with her foot and she breathed a sigh of relief as the bucket was lifted from her arms immediately.

“Thank you.” She sighed, rubbing her forearms and tucking that unruly strand of blonde back behind her ear.

Thorin merely smiled at her as he carried the bucket in one hand and deposited it in the small kitchen area. She was so envious of his strength and often wished she’d been the one to take a job at a forge and leave him to cook and clean and try and find enough money to buy all they needed.

This wasn’t the life she’d planned for. Not in the slightest. Growing up she’d been told that her future consisted of feasts where she’d be draped in silks and gems before marrying some high-born dwarf and living in luxury surrounded by people who would have calloused palms so she would not have to.

She glanced down at her hands and the callouses that had appeared almost immediately after Smaug attacked. She knew she was being stupid; they were all alive and they had a home and just enough food to keep them going. But dragging pails of water to a small home that, if she abandoned in favour of the marriage offer one of the noble Dwarven Houses in Erid Luin had proposed when they’d first arrived, would surely fall to rack and ruin had not been part of the plan.

She knew Thorin was more than grateful that she’d turned down the admittedly fruitful offer as Dis had still been very young and in desperate need fo someone who could tuck her in at night and play during the day while Thorin laboured.

She’d never even thought of leaving in the years since, especially as Dis was apparently utterly hopeless at running a household – a role Ellie seemed to have taken on with relative ease: she’d learnt how to cook while on the road and now had a good repertoire of recipes under her belt, and cleaning had been simple enough once she realised that a smaller house was blessing in disguise. It was the balancing of the household budget she seemed to be failing at lately.

Dis, apparently, needed far more than both her and Thorin combined and Ellie did understand the girl’s want for more than this hand they’d been dealt but she couldn’t continue indulging her in new dresses that she only ever wore to market, not when Thorin’s boots were falling apart at the seams.

Perhaps this marriage might be their salvation.

* * *

“She is a _child_ , Eleonóra!” The carefully laid out cutlery jumped and rearranged itself as his fist hit the table top. Ellie was glad she’d told Dis to stay at a friend’s house tonight; there was no way of delivering the offer to Thorin without him exploding and she didn’t need the hopeful girl to experience this.

“No Thorin, she’s not.” She reminded him, her voice calm as she continued to work at the kitchen top. “She’s a fully-grown adult who’s fallen in love.”

“With someone thoroughly unsuitable and below her station!” She sighed, glad her back was to him as he continued to rage. “What does she even know of love? This is probably some flight of fancy where’s she’s playing at being a grown up.”

“You should have more faith in your sister.” She told him. “She’s a competent _young woman_ who can decide for herself whether or not she loves this man.”

“So you say. But when was the last time she did anything grown up? Hmm? Has she ever made dinner or paid a bill or done an honest day’s work in her life?”

“No, because you keep her coddled here and she only escapes when you’re gone.” Her hands stilled as she realised exactly what she had said and she slowly turned around to face the furious dwarf. “Thorin-”

“I keep her here because this is where she is safest; traipsing to and from the market is enough for her the people don’t need to see her with calloused hands and sweat on her brow because she is a beacon for them; something that despite it all has remained relatively untouched.” His voice was low as he continued to glare at her; their eyes fixed on each other as they stood on either end of the table. “She is a princess.”

“A princess of what exactly?” She asked, wiping her hands on her apron. “Erebor is _gone_ , Thorin.” She said, hands now firmly on her hips as she returned his glare. “The monarchy is _gone_. The crown is _gone_. The need for a princess locked in tower so she can be fawned over is _gone_!” She took a breath. “She loves him and he loves her and that’s good enough for me.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Of course I have.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you think I would have let it get this far without meeting him for myself? Without judging whether or not he intends to do her wrong?” She asked. “She may not be my blood sister but I treasure her more than anything and I would sooner die than see her hurt; physically or not.”

“You don’t get to decide these things.”

“Then who does? You?” She laughed humourlessly. “When was the last time you actually sat down and had a conversation with your sister? Actually looked at her and paid attention to her?” She pushed off from the unit and moved to a stack of papers, rifling through them until she found her most recent sketch of Dis. “Here.” She slammed it down on the table in front of him. “Look at the woman she has become.” She instructed as they stood shoulder to shoulder. “Look at her.”

He gingerly lifted the sheet and studied the charcoal image. The woman it showed was not the girl his mind conjured when Dis’ name was mentioned; this was a fully-grown woman with beads woven into her braid and eyes full of life. This was not who he was expecting.

“She loves him.” Ellie repeated. “And he may not be a good political match or even have a respectable name, but none of that matters anymore; not here.” She told him, her voice softening.

“It matters not.” Ellie felt her jaw clench as his fist curled around the corner of the sheet, distorting the image slightly. “She will not marry him and that is that.”

“Fine.” She stepped away. “But I hope that you can live happily without your sister and your maid in your life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She won’t stand by you if you deny her this.” She said, hands pulling at the strings of her apron. “And I made a promise to your father to watch over her no matter what.” She threw the apron to the floor and strode towards the narrow staircase that would lead her to her room. “Enjoy your dinner; my King.”

* * *

“Bakn galikh, brother.” Thorin lifted his head as he peered at the open doorway to their small home and the woman stepping through.

“Is it?”

“Is it what? Good? I hope so.” She laughed, the door shutting behind her and Thorin felt a sigh of relief escape him as darkness surrounded them once more; his eyes sore from that one second of brightness.

“Morning.” He clarified, his voice rough and throat sore as the sounds of someone moving about filled the room.

“Yes brother, it is morning.” A match was struck and a small fire sparked to life as she threw it into the cold fireplace of the living area of the homes downstairs. “And has been for quite some time.” She moved from the flickering embers and took a seat opposite him. “I take it last night went well?”

His hand tightened around the cup he’d been nursing for the past few hours and he longed to take another drink; to lose himself in the sweet ale and let his problems wash away. But he couldn’t. he couldn’t lose control like that – he had work to do even though he was unquestionably late now.

“Do not speak to me of last night.”

“Where is she?”

“I care not.” He ran a hand through his mane of un-braided hair and pushed it back from his face as he met her gaze in the dimness.

“Lyyi.”

“Do not test me, Dis.” He growled. “I have neither the time nor desire to play your games today.”

“But you have plenty of time to sit there and stare into your cup? I thought you better, Thorin.”

“Enough.”

“What did you say to her? Have you driven her away? I’m surprised it’s taken this long; if I were her I’d have left long-”

“ENOUGH!” His single shout silenced her immediately and he rubbed at his temple to dislodge the pounding that was beginning to settle in as the lack of sleep caught up with him.

“I love him, Nadad.” She whispered and he sighed again. “More than I ever thought possible.”

“I know you believe that Dis, but you a chi-”

“I haven’t been a child for a long time Thorin.” She told him reaching out and peeling his fingers from the cup to hold in her own. “My childhood was stolen along with our mountain.”

“Dis…”

“If I weren’t sure then I wouldn’t have said anything. I know you still think me that quivering ten-year-old but I am grown, brother, and I have spent a great deal of time ensuring that I am not throwing my heart out to a bad man…” She squeezed his fingers. “…I love him.”

“Mizimith…” He breathed, meeting her gaze and swallowing at the earnestness in her eyes.

“Ellie was just doing as I asked.” She told him. “Trust me, she took a lot of encouraging to actually sit down and listen to me too; she has my best interests at heart as much as you do.”

“I know.”

“Then why is she sat in the market staring into space with eyes as red as your own?”

“Because…because I am a fool.”

“No arguments here.” His lips twitched into a smile as she retracted her hand. “But I think we should talk about her too.” He raised an eyebrow at her but let her continue. “We…well you…have worked hard to ensure our people are happy and prospering but have never looked behind our own front door. Thorin, we would be nothing without her; starving and dirty and likely dead. we owe her everything and we call her family but she is our maid; I see that so clearly now.”

He lowered his gaze as her words echoed every thought that had been swirling through his own head once he had begrudgingly accepted that Dis was a child no more.

“She needs more, Thorin.” She added. “And when I leave…” He looked up at her sharply again and she rolled her eyes at him. “…I’m going to leave, brother. And when I do, she needs more in her life than cleaning clothes and making bread.”

“You truly have grown, Mizimith. How did I not see?”

“You said it yourself; you’re a fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English translations:
> 
> Bakn galikh - Good morning  
> Lyyi - Liar  
> Nadad - Brother  
> Mizimith - Young jewel


	5. Women's Work

Dis was married in a cacophony of flowers and music and laughter. He’d never seen his sister so happy and that in turn had made him happy. That, and the sheer amount of family that had turned out for the last princess of Erebor.

The days leading up to the ceremony had be chaos. Utter chaos. Flowers and lace had slowly but surely invaded his home until the only spot untouched by the wedding was the peg on which he hung his coat and bag and left his shoes beneath. Balin and Dwalin had been lifesavers on those days; providing the distraction he’d needed after catching snatches of Dis in a white dress and wanting noting more than to call the whole thing off.

But then the day had arrived and she’d taken his breath away when he’d turned in their kitchen and seen her step from the last stair, clad in her wedding dress with eyes shining. The white lace had flowed around her like the waterfall of Ravenhill in the height of summer and her hair was covered in flowers that had been collected from the surface of the mountain range under which they dwelled.

“You clean up well, brother.”

“I would not wish to be outshone on my big day.” He’d teased, not fully able to take in how beautiful his little sister looked.

“You mean _my_ big day.” She’d corrected and he’d smiled at her.

“Have you got the cloak? I can’t find it upstairs and we can’t go anywhere without-”

“Thorin has it!” Dis had called out and a sigh of relief had echoed down the stairs as Ellie joined them. His breath had left him again as she appeared in the same spot Dis had stopped in only a moment earlier. “Honestly, the way you two have been fretting all morning you’d think this wedding is about to take place in front of the entire kingdom plus a few extras.”

“Says the one who woke me at dawn in a flood of tears convinced she’d given the baker the wrong date.”

“I’m the bride.” Dis had said as his eyes had remained fixed on Ellie and the way the soft satin encased her body; the slightly full skirt rippling in a way that lace never could. “I’m allowed to panic.”

And panicking she was now. Thorin could hear her flurry of questions as she breathed through the pain wracking her body.

_Is it not coming fast enough? Have I done something wrong? What if it doesn’t come out? Can I do this?_

The wedding had been months ago and he couldn’t quite believe that he was here; in the kitchen of his sister’s home and listening to her scream her way through labour. The knock on their door a few hours ago had been urgent and he’d stumbled down the stairs with his sword tight in his grasp. It had clanged to the ground as the news had been breathlessly relayed and he’d thanked the woman before turning and watching Ellie run back upstairs to dress, a sword dangling from her own fingers.

They’d been here ever since and he beyond restless now. He realised that he’d been of little comfort to the nervous father-to-be and was instead replaying every happy memory he had of his sister and begging Mahal to leave his family alone for one – to leave him just one true blood relative and not snatch her away as he had his Mother, Father, Grandfather and brother. _Please_.

Another cry ripped through the air and Thorin felt his heart lunge at the sound. He wanted nothing more than to take the stairs two at a time and clutch her hand through this, but he’d been warned once by the midwife and that was enough for him.

_“The birthing room is no place for a man; never has been and never will be. This is women’s work and we’ve done it alone for a millennia; now sit down and leave me to it.”_

He hadn’t moved since.

“Come on Dis!” His eyes closed as Ellie’s cries mixed with Dis’. “You’re so close; you’ve done so well.”

He couldn’t bear the thought of a world without her. It had been bad enough moving her stuff from their home to her new, empty one – and that had only been on the other side of the market square. She’d been gone 24 hours before turning up at their door again. He’d thought nothing of finding her at their breakfast table, giggling over something with Ellie as they both clasped a hot drink. It had only been when the candle light had bounced off the rich band of gold now sat on her finger had he realised what was going on.

He smiled at the memory of her laugh at his eyeroll and his eyes opened just in time for all breath to leave his body at the sound of an infant’s wail.

* * *

“You did it, Dis.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to the woman’s slick hair. “You did it.”

“We did it.” She corrected, squeezing the hand she still held as her eyes remained fixed on the bundle being washed and swaddled by the midwives. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Ellie.”

“Congratulations, Dornessiti men.” The elder of the two women said as she turned with a babe perfectly wrapped in bright white blankets in her arms. “You have a son.”

“A son?” Dis breathed as the child was laid into her arms. “Hello, my son.” She cooed, one finger pushing away the edges of the cloth to show more of his face. “I’ve a son, Ellie.” She said, her finger softly tracing the outline of his face.

“He’s beautiful, Dis.”

“And truly a gift from, Mahal.” Dis said, laughing through tears of joy as she pushed back the top of blanket to reveal a soft down of blonde hair. “My brother reincarnate.”

* * *

Thorin had never been more nervous than when his nephew was first laid in his arms. He’d held his arms stiff, not willing to let them tremble even a little as the baby turned his big eyes onto him and carved a place out in his uncle’s heart forever.

He’d laughed when Dwalin had stated that he’d take an Orc any day over a newborn babe but he’d seen how quickly that warrior had melted when baby Fili nestled into his hold and had hidden a smile at the thought of reminding his best friend of this exact moment when he next chose to regale them with tales of his heroic deeds.

It was surprising how easily their lives had changed to fit around this small blonde baby and Thorin could think of no better way to end his day than by dropping by his sister’s home on his way back from the forge. There, he’d be able to stroke at the childs pudgy little cheeks before being batted away by Ellie for being too dirty to touch _‘their angel’_. She’d taken to him effortlessly too and for the first few days, when Dis was too exhausted to get out of bed, Fili had quieted only when in her arms. She spent her days here now, the few chores that needed to be done were completed faster than most would deem possible and then she’d be on her way to help Dis. The baby, it seemed, had been the exact thing she needed in her life; the boy was her sense of purpose.

After ensuring that his sister was fine to be left alone with her infant son, he and Ellie would wander home, love-struck smiles on their faces as they thought of the gurgling child and the joy he brought.

He’d expected their home to be strange with Dis gone but it was oddly comforting for it to be just the two of them. She’d cook while he washed off the day’s sweat and grime and then they’d eat, sharing tales of their day before she curled up with a book in front of the fireplace and he washed their dishes.

It was pure domesticity, Dwalin insisted as he laughed over his ale during their weekly meet-up in the inn. He simply rolled his eyes as Balin smiled on affectionately but he couldn’t deny it. He liked their routine – liked how comfortable they were around each other and how they had formed their own small family now Dis had her own.

His favourite night had been when Dis and her husband had gone out for the first time since their son’s birth and he and Ellie had had Fili all to themselves. It had been bliss to move around in their home with a sleeping baby in a bassinet in front of the fire. They had awoken in the morning curled up in each other’s arms on the sofa with Fili happily blowing bubbles and gurgling. It was what kept him going as they retired to their own rooms every night.

He wanted more. Of course he did. He wanted what the future had promised for them before Smaug but it wasn’t going to happen. They’d been through too much, seen too much and done too much to be those people again and that’s why he wasn’t pushing.

Maybe someday, when Fili was older and asked why his uncle and aunt lived together but weren’t together, they’d have to sit down and actually talk it out.

But for now, he was happy just being here; with a baby in his arms and her in his eyeline, dancing in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English translations:
> 
> Dornessiti men – My Princess


	6. The New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An incredibly short chapter but I just wanted to include a glimpse into life with Fili as a toddler.   
> Not to worry though; Chapter 7 is a long one, longer than any one so far! 
> 
> So, don't forget to R+R (because it makes me write faster) and I hope you enjoy! xxx

 

“Come on, Fili.” Ellie grinned at the small boy. “Come to Aunt Ellie.” She urged, arms wide as he chewed on his lip, his tiny hands clenching the material of his mother’s sofa tightly.

“Aunta?” The nervousness was clear in his voice as he considered what she was asking him to do.

“That’s it; come on leanbh.” She grinned at the boy, her heart blooming as he continued to chant her name.

Fili glanced back to his fisted hands and slowly but surely began to release the material. He turned slightly, only one hand keeping his steady on the sofa and broke out into a gurgling smile when he saw Ellie’s grin.

“That’s it.” She continued to encourage. “Come to me, Fili.” The toddler released the sofa completely and lifted his small, shaking leg a little before letting it fall to the floor, the force of which was enough to propel him forward. Each step was a little uncertain but his arms mirrored hers as he neared and a burst of giggles left him as her hands clasped his sides and swept him up into an embrace.

“He’s getting better at that.” She turned, hoisting Fili up onto her hip as Thorin smiled at them from the doorway.

“Unca!” The boy in her arms practically cheered, hands outstretched as Thorin dropped his bag and made his way towards them.

“He’s still nervous about letting go but once he starts walking…” She handed the prince over. “…there’s no stopping him.”

“Where’s Dis?” Thorin asked, eyes flitting around the small house for any sign of his sister as Fili’s tiny hands played with the beads in his hair.

“She’s seeing off the caravan.” Ellie told him, moving around the sitting area to pick up the toys Fili had strewn around the room in the few hours his mother had been gone.

“Can’t she wave him off with her son in her arms?”

“Thorin.” The warning was clear in her voice: _don’t push Dis on this_.

“Running half-way down the mountain range like a love-sick teenager just to wave them off seems pointless when she could be here, with Fili.”

“He’s going to Edoras.” She reminded him. “He’ll be gone for months; let her have a bit of peace with her husband.”

“I told her life as a merchant’s wife would be hard.”

“Yes.” She sighed, moving to deposit Fili’s toys into the wooden toybox that she and Thorin had gifted the Prince the last time the market from the Iron Hills came. “You did. Many times.”

“What are you doing?” He asked, following her into the kitchen.

“Just clearing up a little.” She said, collecting up a few empty plates and pans and depositing them in the sink. “Lending a hand.”

“Ellie.”

“Don’t ‘ _Ellie’_ me.” She huffed arms crossing across her chest. “I’m helping your sister.”

“We’ve talked about this.” He sighed, shifting Fili as the boy’s fingers began to pull and prod at his lips. “You need to let her do this by herself; it’s what she wanted.”

“I’ll stop spoiling Dis when you stop spoiling Fili.”

“I don’t-” He cut himself off when she bent and lifted his bag onto the table, emptying its contents. “That’s completely different.”

“Mmhmm.” She sifted through the numerous hand-carved wooden toys that were in varying stages of construction.

“Why shouldn’t I spoil him?” He asked, holding the boy close. “He’s my nephew and my heir.”

“And Dis is your sister.” She reminded him, stepping forward and placing a hand on Fili’s back as the boy nestled into the crook of Thorin’s neck, his eyes growing heavy. “Be gentle with her too.”

* * *

Dis was crying again. He couldn’t bear it when she cried. She wasn’t a quiet crier and her howling sobs were hard to sit through both for him and his three-year-old nephew. A quick nod from Ellie had been the only encouragement he’d needed to grab his nephew and bustle him out of the small home.

The fresh air was good for the lad and Thorin adored being able to bring him up, out of the underground settlement to simply run around on its grassy banks.

The air was warm as he sat under the shade of one of the few trees dotting the landscape and every time he glanced up from the pages he was using to sketch out a few ideas for his spare time at the forge, he laughed at the continuous sight of Fili desperately chasing the butterfly that had landed on his shoulder when they’d arrived here.

“Room for another?” He looked away from Fili and upwards to the figure standing beside him.

“Always.” He took the picnic basket from her hand and shifted to free u some space against the trunk. “How is she?”

“Sleeping.” She told him, her eyes settling on Fili and lips quirking at the sight of him; arms outstretched and a determined look on his face. “She misses him.”

“He’s been gone a month; that’s nothing.”

“He’d only been home a week.” She reminded him. “They barely see each other.”

“No one forces him to travel so far.” Thorin argued, his brows furrowing. “He chooses to keep leaving them.”

“I know.” She sighed, pulling the basket between them and opening it. “And I don’t know why she struggles with it so much; we’ve had tougher times and faced worse odds.”

“Will she be joining us?”

“I doubt it.” She mumbled. “She’ll sleep until we go back.”

“Perhaps we should keep the lad with us tonight?” He heard her laugh as he let the hopefulness slip into his voice.

It wasn’t exactly unknown how much he enjoyed having Fili stay with them; they were always up to something when he was over and Thorin had a newly carved sword hidden under his bed ready for his next birthday or maybe even tonight – he wasn’t sure he could wait to see the look in his eyes when he gets his first sword, even if it is a wooden one.

“Sleepover?” They both turned as a young voice joined them. “Tonight?”

“If your amad is okay with it.” Ellie told him and Thorin watched as the boy moved from the picnic basket to clamber up onto her lap.

“She will be.” Fili told her, peering up at her with big eyes. “I know it.” Thorin laughed at the sureness his voice held as he tried to sway them.

“Let’s get this hair out of your eyes, kidhuzurâl.” Ellie said, changing the subject and turning him in her lap. “I seem to spend my days re-braiding your hair.”

“When amad does it, it all falls out.” Fili told them as Ellie combed through his collar-bone length blonde locks with her fingers before separating it out into three strands. “So I leave it loose, like Uncle Thorin.”

Thorin felt a grin tug at his lips as Fili glanced up at him with a smile. He’d wondered how long it would take for the active child to not bother with wasting time braiding hair and just leaving it loose. He himself never wore it back; the weight of it always around him reminded him of the weight his rank in their society held; he was King and he had failed them – it was a burden he alone would shoulder. That, coupled with his short beard was undoubtedly going to leave an impression on the young prince.

“There.” Ellie released him from her hold. “Now, go play.” She ushered him from her lap and out into the sunshine. “We’ll call you for lunch.”

“Love you irak’ namad.” Fili called behind him as he headed back out in search of his butterfly. “Love you irak’ nadad.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English translations:
> 
> Leanbh - baby  
> Amad - mother  
> Kidhuzurâl - golden one  
> Irak’ namad - aunt  
> Irak’ nadad - uncle


	7. Mahal Giveth and Mahal Taketh Away

The scene unfolding in front of Thorin’s eyes was one he would undoubtedly treasure forever; the fireplace in his home was blazing as the last moon of Autumn slid into place high above their under-mountain home, their table was almost full and the air was full of laughter as members of his family filled their living room.

“If you’re going to take up space in my kitchen, you’d better plan on making yourself useful.” He tore his eyes from the sight of Fili practically glued to Balin’s side as the dwarf read to him from whatever tome the boy had decided on from their small collection, to the woman at his side holding a masher in her outstretched hand as she stirred a pot.

“It wouldn’t be Durin’s Day without my famous potatoes.” He laughed, taking the implement from her hand and moving to the pot of freshly boiled potatoes cooling on the worktop.

“Your famous potatoes.” She scoffed at the statement. “Funny how they only became famous after I told you to add cheese.”

His retort died in his throat and was replaced by a grin as the final member of their small family signalled his arrival with two hard bangs on their front door.

“I won’t hesitate to bill you for a new door.” Ellie called out as he opened the rickety piece of wood that he’d been meaning to replace for years now and revealed the waiting Dwarf.

“And a happy Durin’s Day to you too, Ellie.” Thorin simply laughed at Dwalin’s deadpan reply to the woman who was a full head shorter than him but no less fierce.

“Welcome, brother.” Thorin greeted the man, the pair reaching out to each other in sync as they clasped the backs of their necks and pulled them close; foreheads touching with a force he knew made Ellie wince, before stepping back and allowing the bulky man in.

“Uncle Dwalin!” The dwarf barely had time to remove his furs before a small blonde blur launched himself at the warrior.

“Just when I thought he was starting to get sleepy.” Balin sighed, shutting the book and standing. “Evening brother.”

“Evening brother.” Dwalin replied, meeting the man in the same embrace as Thorin. “Am I late?”

“Not at all.” Thorin told him as Balin moved back to his seat on the sofa, Fili in hand as the lad was promised a more exciting tale after dinner. “We’re still preparing.” He held up the masher with a grin.

“Your famous potatoes!” The warrior laughed. “I knew this would be worth travelling for.”

* * *

“Ah, I’d travel from the ends of the world for Ellie’s cooking – that girl knows how to operate a kitchen.” Thorin laughed at Dwalin’s compliment, the man rubbing his full stomach with joy as he leant back in his chair at the now empty table. “You’re a lucky man.”

“That I am.” He smiled, his eyes instinctively flitting over to the woman in question as she sat side-by-side with Dis, the pair whispering about something as Fili slept between them; his head on Ellie’s lap as she absentmindedly stroked his hair.

“And a happy one too, by the looks of things.” Balin added, stealing back Thorin’s attention with a sly smile.

He liked this part of Durin’s Day the best; the part where the celebrations start to die down and blind merriness is replaced with true conversation. It had become a tradition of sorts now; they would all converge on this house, with Dwalin travelling in from whatever far flung place he’d wandered too in the months past, and would celebrate their most holy of holidays together, as a family.

When the meal was over and done with, Ellie and Dis would retire to the living room to relax while the three men cleared up and then filled their tankards to the brim with whatever Thorin had been hoarding for this exact day, and just be.

“Aye.” He agreed. “But why wouldn’t I be? My family are all here and Mahal gifted us with a full table.”

“Fili’s growing into quite the young lad.” Dwalin observed. “Now might be a good time to hand over that sword you’ve been working on since he was born, turn him into a real git khuzi.”

“Not yet. When he’s a little more balanced with the wooden one I’ll take him up top – out of harm’s way.” Thorin smiled at the thought. “Besides, he’ll be far too preoccupied with a new friend soon.”

“New friend?” Balin asked with a frown.

“Aye.” Thorin lifted his tankard. “We’ve a new Durin on the way.”

There was moment of silence before Dwalin reacted to the news.

“About dammed time!” The victorious slap on the back from the large dwarf all but choked him as he took a drink of his ale.

“I knew that happiness in your eyes was different, Thorin.” Balin grinned as Throin tried to cough out the ale that had stuck in his lung. “I’m so pleased for you; both of you.”

“Like I said; about time!” The dwarven brothers knocked their tankards together in a sort of toast before drinking heavily and giving Thorin the time he needed to decipher their strange reaction to the news.

“I’m just glad…” Balin started, wiping at his chin as he lowered his tankard. “…that you’ve moved past all those burdens you’ve lumped on your shoulders for all these years and are ready to accept Erid Luin as not just your home for now, but your family’s home for the foreseeable future.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Ellie of course.” Dwalin rolled his eyes. “Damn baby’s already got his mind in a twist.”

His eyes snapped back to Ellie and he suddenly saw all that they did when they entered his home: the pair of dwarves with their lives so closely intertwined both working to bring the family together for an important celebration. He saw how at home Ellie was with Fili asleep on her lap and how the three men sat together drinking could be seen as his way of trying to announce something of vital importance.

“Dis is pregnant.” He said, his eyes moving back to them just in time to see their smiles fade slightly and them share a look as realisation dawned.

“Ah.”

* * *

It was firmly winter now, the cold chill in the air was present even deep with their mountain community. But despite the cold it was a good day; the market was bustling with every cart packed full of commodities and spirits were high as celebrations from Durin’s Day continued to occur despite the date having passed.

That’s the thing about losing so much, Ellie mused as a group of children rushed past her, you cling onto the important stuff so much more. And Durin’s Day was important, it was the start of a new year for them; for this group of people who thought their first winter out of Erebor would be their last on this Earth as the snows descended on their ramshackle camps in the wilds.

But today was good for far more reasons too; firstly, she’d finally made her decision about what she wanted to do with her life. She’d assumed that the merchant knocking at their door late into the night had been bearing bad news so it had been more than a surprise for him to sit at their table and offer a business deal instead. She had been shocked, Thorin apparently, hadn’t. the man insisted that he’d been waiting for someone to actually offer her money for one fo her drawings for some time now, especially as they’d gotten larger and more elaborate following the ready availability of paints courtesy of Dis’ husband.

_“I told you having a merchant in the family would be a good thing.”_  Thorin had said as she squealed in delight over a new shade of green. She’d merely elbowed him in the stomach, deciding to forgo a reminder of his stubbornness all those years earlier, and thanked the merchant for his kindness before re-wrapping the paint and storing it away for future use.

“Looks like a certain stall is getting quite the crowd.” Dis teased, nudging her as they rounded a corner and were met with the sight of a rather busy cart; it’s owner exchanging coins for landscape drawings with ease.

“They’re likely doing it out of some misplaced loyalty.” She said, turning from the stall. “Why would these people, who have received a simple sketch as a present for years, buy more of my work?”

Dis rolled her eyes. “Because you’re talented.” She told her, looping her arm through her own. “Isn’t that right, mim razdith _?_ ” She asked, smiling down at the five-year-old holding onto Ellie’s free hand as he nodded eagerly.

That was the other reason for her happiness; Dis. Though only just beginning to show, her pregnancy was clear to see as she walked everywhere with hand protecting her growing bump and grinning to everyone who stopped to ask how she was.

The dark cloud that had surrounded the princess for the past few years seemed to be losing its hold on her. She wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of a new baby or the fact that her husband had promised to reduce his travels after coming home to find that his son barely knew him. Not that Fili lacked male role models though, Thorin was rarely from the boy and Balin was a huge part of his life too. Between them they’d started the lessons that all members of the royal family had once received at young ages in Erebor and it warmed her heart every time she saw a glimpse of a true prince in the boy’s eyes. One that promptly faded whenever Dwalin showed up with a new tale of adventure and a mini weapon to re-enact it with.

But everything seemed to be falling into place for Dis and she was confident that she’d not be needed as much anymore: Fili was older, they weren’t living pay-check to pay-check anymore and Dis was far more prepared for a baby this time around.

It’s why she’d said yes to selling her work and judging by how much money the man had delivered to her from his last outing into the lands of Men, she wouldn’t be scrabbling for grocery money anytime soon either.

Things were falling into place for her too, she supposed. Less time with Dis meant more time at home and more time at home, meant more time with Thorin. _Thorin_. She’d be a fool to say that she hadn’t noticed how close they were; how comfortable they were together especially when it was just the two of them and a small child. They’d never spoken about how easily they’d fallen into a routine together and now, with Dis firmly building her own life, maybe they’d finally have the chance to explore what they could be if left alone.

Thorin made her happy. He made her feel warm and safe and she knew that if they were ever going to get back onto the track they’d been heading towards back in Erebor, it would be now. she knew that he thought himself unworthy these days; that his forge was no replacement for the crown he’d lost but she was desperate to show him that the throne had never been the reason she spent time with him. That she filled her days with him because of who he was, not who he would have been.

If riches and parties had been her plan, she’d have married long ago to all the men who wrote to her when they’d settled here. Thorin had never seen the inked promises of silks and jewels and he never would; they’d become ash as soon as she reached the end of the page and her replies, though courteous, had been simple: No.

They continued to wander through the maze of stalls, stopping now and then to finger at something that took their eye until the sound of a hammer moulding steel filled their ears. Fili instantly perked up, whether at the promise of warmth from the forge or just the prospect of seeing his beloved uncle. Dis smiled too as they neared the familiar forge and called out a greeting to the only man in Erid Luin who wasn’t bundled up against the cold: sweat running down his forehead, Thorin pushed his loose hair from his eyes and grinned at the approaching party.

Yes, today was a good day, she decided, glancing once more at the busy market square before stepping into the warmth of the smithy.

* * *

“We told him not to.” The dwarf wrung his hat between his hands as he spoke, never daring to meet their eyes. “Told him that in those winds it would impossible.” Ellie’s hand tightened around Dis’ as he continued. “But he went anyway emulhekh. We couldn’t stop him and then the snow shifted and…” He trailed off, his eyes moving from his hands to Thorin’s as Dis’ sobs intensified. “We dug through the night.” He told him, eyes watering at the memory as Thorin nodded solemnly. “Knew we had to bring him home.”

“And we will never be able to thank you enough for that.” Thorin’s voice sounded too loud in the smallness of their living room.

“No thanks needed, thanu men.” The dwarf insisted. “He was one of us.”

Any further words of apology and sympathy were lost to Ellie as Dis let out another sob and she pulled the Princess close. They’d been in this position once before, she remembered; the memory of Dis sobbing into her as news of Frerin, Thrain and Thror was recounted to them. Thorin had had to be the strong one then as he was now; leading the dwarf back out of the house and no doubt making the first arrangements for the body to be prepared.

“He promised he’d come back to me.” Dis cried, her words muffled slightly by Ellie’s shoulder. “Promised he wouldn’t go so far anymore and we could be a proper family.” Ellie glanced down the protruding stomach that separated them from being any closer. “Why was he so stupid?”

She had no answer for her and instead resorted to shhing her and rubbing her back as the woman emptied her eyes.

She supposed that he’d attempted the crossing for the simple reason of it would be his last chance too. From what she’d heard, the narrow strip separating Edoras from Erech was treacherous even in the height of summer but now, with the winds so fast and the snow so blinding, trying to follow the rivers path had been deadly.

“How will I tell Fili?” Dis asked, her sobs receding as the initial wave of grief began to subside into plain worry. “How do I tell him his father is dead?”

“Dis...” She sighed, not knowing what to say to her as the Princess sat up.

“And what will I say to this one?” She asked, one hand on her stomach. “At least Fili will have some memory of his father, this one will never know him.”

“They won’t need to.” She hadn’t heard Thorin re-enter the room. “We’ve enough stories of him between us; it’ll be as though he is here.”

“But he won’t be.” Dis refused to look up at him as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “He won’t be here.”

“No, he won’t.” Ellie agreed. “But neither is Frerin, or your father and grandfather and Fili knows of them; knows who they are and what they did.” She sat forward on the sofa and took Dis’ hands in her own. “People aren’t lost if their memory lives on.”

“Will you help me?” She asked, voice cracking as she glanced between Thorin and Ellie. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Of course we will.” Ellie’s voice was soft as she met Thorin’s eyes above Dis’ head. With a sad smile, she turned from him and stared into their blazing fireplace where all her dreams of their future were now residing.

* * *

Everything was different this time; there had been no urgent knock at the door telling them that Dis was in labour because they had been with her, as they had been now practically everyday since the funeral; Thorin wasn’t downstairs waiting for any sound of new life because he far above them on the mountains’ surface distracting Fili; and there were no shared smiles between the labouring princess and her midwives because the older dwarves had already told them that something was wrong.

It had started yesterday when Dis had all but collapsed in her kitchen. Thorin had caught her before she hit the floor but things hadn’t been right since; heart pounding, breath clipped and a sudden gasp as pain seared through her stomach had seen her confined to bed within the hour. Then the vomiting had started and just when Ellie was convinced things couldn’t get worse; her waters broke.

Now she was red-faced and panting even as the contractions subsided and the damp cloth that had been laid over her eyes was apparently doing little to quell her crippling headache.

“What can I do?” She whispered to the midwives as they shared another grim look. “Please, let me help her.”

“There’s nothing that can be done, azbadu men.” The female dwarf took her hand as Dis let out another groan. “It’s going to be a long night.”

* * *

The baby was a handful of minutes old when the tides turned on them again; the last hour had gone smoothly and Dis’ headache had started to subside as the promise of a new baby had kept her going.

They’d barely had chance to tell her that she was the mother to another son when the convulsions had started. She’d turned with the bundle in her arms and almost dropped them as the princess’ eyes rolled backwards in her head and she started to fit.

She’d been useless, absolutely useless as the midwives tried to hold Dis down and stop the jerky movements her limbs were making. The baby safely tucked up in its waiting bassinet, Ellie had practically thrown herself down the stairs and out into the street, she’d latched onto the first dwarf she’d seen and somehow they’d been able to understand her rushed beg for help.

Thorin arrived barely twenty minutes later, almost as red-faced as his now conscious sister, with Fili in his arms.

“Let me see her.” His voice had been deathly low and she envied the bravery the midwife clearly had as she once again refused him entry into the bedroom, promising that once she was decent and comfortable she’d let them in.

“Ellie.” Dis’ voice, by comparison, had been shaky as she held out a hand to her brushing away the midwife trying to listen to her chest with a cone-shaped instrument.

“It’s okay, Dis.” She shushed the woman, perching on the edge of the mattress, the princess’ freezing hand between her own as she tried to keep tears at bay.

“No.” She took as deep a breath as she could. “No, it’s not.” She forced a smile. “But I’m okay with it; the curse of Durin women, remember?”

“I’m not going to let you die.” She promised, squeezing her hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I promised to keep you safe.”

“And you have.” She lifted a shaky hand to wipe away the tear and Ellie wondered when exactly did the small girl she’d played with become this pillar of strength even as she lay here dying. “Now I need you to do the same for my boys. Bring him to me.” She nodded to the bassinet at the foot of the bed and Ellie rose to lift the bundle and place him in his mother’s arms. “He’s beautiful.” She murmured as he nestled into her. “With true Durin hair.” She fingered the wisps of black covering his head before pressing a kiss to it and whispering to him softly. “Men lananubukhs me, bunnanunê.” Feeling a fresh wave of tear coming, Ellie stepped back to allow the waiting midwife to take the baby before reclaiming her space and Dis’ hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dis asked. “You have given me so much, Ellie; from the moment you stepped into my nursery you have been my sister and I will never be able to thank you enough for that…and so much more.” She pushed herself up slightly, her breath straining slightly at the action. “You saved us.” She squeezed her hand. “All of us.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“And that’s what makes you family.” She smiled softly, taking another deep breath as she delivered what Ellie knew would be her most important message. "Promise me you'll look after them." Her hold was tight despite the life fading from her. "Promise me."

"I promise." Ellie said, squeezing back.

"All of them." Dis added, her eyes darting to the door and the two who waited outside.

Ellie simply nodded, her understanding clear. She pressed a kiss to the princess' hand and gestured for the door to be opened. A whirlwind of blonde hair with a nose so like Frerin's burst into the room and clambered onto the bed with a cry of 'Mama'. Ellie wiped a tear from her eye and stood, giving the princeling room.

"I promise." She repeated, whispering to herself as a hand guided her by the shoulder into the waiting broad chest.

“Mim razdith.” Dis breathed as Fili cuddled up to his mother. “You must be strong now, Sanûrzud.” She insisted, stroking the blonde hair that was the source of all his nicknames. “I need you to be a good big brother.” She nodded once again to the bassinet as Fili peered at it. “He needs you: Kili needs you.”

“I promise, Amad.”

“Good.” She pressed a kiss to his head. “You should go now.” She told him, hushing his cries. “But remember Fili, you and Kili…” She smiled at the bassinet. “…Menu tessu, uzfakuh.”

* * *

She’d waited until the small prince left to say more; watching as Fili took Ellie’s hand, the woman brushing away the tears that were free-flowing now, and smiling softly at them as they left with the midwives carrying Kili’s bassinet behind them.

“Nadad.”

“Namadith.” He breathed, taking the space Ellie had previously occupied on the mattress edge.

“I don’t know what to say.” She wheezed, her lips lifting in a smile. “I never thought-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dis.” He told her, taking her hand.

“I made Ellie promise to look after them.” She told him, her eyes straying to the closed door as if trying to get one last look at her children. “Not that I doubted she would anyway but…it’s comforting to hear it out loud.”

“We’ll look after them.” He promised, unable to say more as his throat tightened at her paling face and fading grip.

“I know.” She sighed. “But look after her too.”

“Don’t worry about any of that.” He reached out to smooth back her hair. “Just relax.”

“I wish I could have seen it again.” She murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. “Erebor.” She clarified and his hold tightened at the name. “Perhaps my boys will, one day.” He let his own eyes close at the hope lifting her voice a little. “What will I say to her, Thorin? Will she like me?”

“Who, Dis?”

“Amad.” She breathed the word. “I’ve waited my whole life to meet her and now I will, in the digondamaar.”

“She’ll love you, Dis.” He told her, pressing a kiss to her hand. “As we all have.”

She smiled at the thought; at the prospect of reuniting with their lost family in Mahal’s halls. Thorin watched as peace crossed her features and felt his tears fall now she couldn’t see them. He held her hand until the chill of her skin started to cool his own and then, with a kiss to her forehead he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English translations: 
> 
> Git khuzi – little warrior  
> Mim razdith – little sun  
> Emulhekh – majesty  
> Thanu men – my king  
> Azbadu men – my lady  
> Men lananubukhs me, bunnanunê – I love you, my tiny treasure  
> Sanûrzud – perfect sun  
> Amad - mother  
> Menu tessu, uzfakuh – you mean everything to me, my greatest joy  
> Nadad – brother  
> Namadith – little sister  
> Digondamaar – Golden halls of Mahal


	8. New Beginnings (Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one but I'm eager to start the ball rolling in terms of aging the boys. Hope you all enjoy. Leave a comment! x

They’d lasted another mere year in Erid Luin. The mountain range that had once promised sanctuary and prosperity was now the home to every single one of their ghosts, whether they were laid to rest there or not.

She’d allowed herself one week of overwhelming grief following Dis’ death and then had forced a normal façade for the boys’ sakes; or at least that’s what she’d told herself every time fresh tears had threatened to fall.

Thorin hadn’t been much better – the King had steadfastly refused to even acknowledge that their whole lives had once again changed due to unforeseeable circumstances. He’d taken refuge in Kili; the babe who had never known the woman they grieved for was the first thing in his arms when he returned from work and it had taken a while for him to return to normalcy with Fili.

That little boy had been the worst. It hadn’t taken much to move his and his new brother’s things from Dis’ home before it was sold and for a while it had seemed as though he were fine…until she’d found him on the bottom step of their staircase with a small bag of belongings at his feet and tears running down his soft cheeks.

_“Does amad not love us anymore?”_ He’d asked as she tucked her dress around her legs and perched next to him. _“Is that why she’s not coming back?”_ She’d had no words for him and had simply scooped him onto her lap and held him close as he sobbed into her – the reality of his mother’s death hitting him as she’d eventually found the strength to whisper that _“She most definitely still loves you and she’d be here if she could but Mahal needed her now and that’s why she left you with us.”_

After that, things had been…strained.

It had all come to a head when she was in the market one day; Kili on her hip and Fili holding onto her skirts, and someone had mentioned how Fili ought to be in lessons with the other children in the rudimentary schoolhouse that had recently been constructed. She could still hear the comment that had followed as if she were back in that square.

_I’m sure his mother wouldn’t have wanted him secluded._

After scooping Fili onto her other hip, snarling at the merchant and storming home, it was Thorin (again) who had found her braced on their kitchen sink with one hand on her chest as she fought to control her breathing.

_“This place is suffocating me.”_  She’d told him as he’d turned her to face him and forced her to meet her eyes as he coaxed her back to normal breaths. _“I can’t stay here – I can’t breathe, Thorin.”_ He’d said he understood, that he needed to get out from under here too.

And so they’d put the boys to bed and spent the rest of the night at their table, planning where they could go to get the most air.

Leaving the mountains had been easier than they were expecting with Balin and Dwalin being the only family they really had there. Both had understood their need for a change and then they’d waved them off at the crack of dawn with a promise of a letter when they settled.

Stupidly, the hardest part of the move had been finding the breeches and tunic she’d bartered for after fleeing Erebor and realising that they were back at that exact point again. But she’d slipped into the clothes that she’d shed almost immediately after resettling in Erid Luin and realised that they were more than a uniform reserved for long journeys; they represented how they had gone through the worst of times and come out stronger.

And so, hair braided and boots laced, she’d stepped up onto their aging wagon (that was destined for a resale once they found a new home – Mahal knows they couldn’t have carried all the boys stuff on horseback) with Kili and his cocoon of blankets in one arm and Fili happily sat between her and Thorin.

No one had looked back as Erid Luin disappeared behind them.

They hadn’t really decided where they’d settle but after only ten minutes in the bustling town they’d come to a rolling stop in after days of travel, they’d known it was the right place for them.

For her, it had been the small house of creamy bricks with a solid front door. It was nothing special really; just a house on a street with what appeared to be friendly neighbours nearby. It was nothing and yet it was everything she’d imagined when they’d bundled all their belongings into that cart.

Indoor plumbing and enough bedrooms for them all with a lovely little schoolhouse a short walk away. It was a town like she’d never seen; no narrow streets and shout-filled markets spilling into squat houses all squished together to maximise space - just quaint little houses in neat rows with the best of surprises lurking behind. The garden had taken her breath away as Fili rushed past her and out into the small patch of green they now owned. She’d never dreamed that the boys would be able to play out in the sunshine but be protected within their own fences.

For Thorin, she knew it had been the forge that was a short walk in the opposite direction to the school house that had sealed the deal. Both buildings bordered the market square but their house was a neat distance between both; not too many streets away from the market but enough to not have to fight through it every time you opened the door.

He could work here. Actually work; not just hammer things back into shape or make another sword just the same as every other Dwarven blacksmith in the area. As far as they knew, there weren’t many dwarves here but judging by the array of other races and how well they cohabitated and intermingled; they’d be fine. Besides, it would give him a chance to show off and create some true dwarven masterpieces.

Everything was good; they still had a little bit of money behind them after buying the house and paying a few months’ rent upfront for the forge. Everything was calm; they’d settled in easily with Fili focused entirely on how he wanted his bedroom to look while Thorin constructed a cot in the next room.

Everything was peaceful: they were home.


	9. Snapshots of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to have a go at exploring what Fili and Kili were like as children and I think that no one grows up to be a warrior with a glint in their eye without a healthy dose of family in the wings. 
> 
> P.S. We're getting real close to the film now and I'd appreciate it if people would let me know whether or not they want this to continue into AUE.

“FILI!”

Do you ever just reach the end of your tether and everything you’ve been holding back comes pouring out at probably the wrong person but you’re helpless to stop it? Ellie was there. And a crying three-year-old stumbling over to where she was trying (and failing) to pull something extraordinary out of herself and paint it onto the canvas in front of her, was the last straw.

“How many times have I told you _not_ to use your brother for training?” She asked, pulling Kili along with one hand as she stormed through their house to find Fili chewing on his lip in the garden.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not looking at all sorry as his eyes flitted to his brother before glaring at him; the youngest Durin partially hidden behind her skirt.

“Fili.” She sighed, dropping Kili’s hand as he wiped away his tears with the back of his other. “You just have to be more careful; he’s five years younger than you and can barely _lift_ a wooden sword never mind defend himself with one.”

“I know.” He kicked at the grass and mumbled an apology to his brother before turning his attention back to her. “When is Uncle Thorin coming home?”

“When he is done at the forge Fili, you know this.” She told him, crouching down to wipe away the last of Kili’s tears and press a kiss to his forehead. “Why?”

“No reason.” He answered quickly. Too quickly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and sent Kili off to play with the collection of age-appropriate toys in the corner. “Why?” She repeated.

He glanced to his feet again and mumbled something incoherent.

“Fili.” She reached out for him, falling onto her knees as he closed the space between them. “What’s wrong Sanûrzud?”

He blew out a sigh before meeting her concerned eyes. “The boys at school said I’m not a real warrior.”

She held in a laugh at his crestfallen face and instead cupped his chin. “And what makes them qualified enough to say such a thing?” He shrugged. “Have you told your uncle?”

“No.” He fidgeted in her hold and she begrudgingly released him. “What if he says that I’m not a warrior? What if I’m not good enough?”

“Well there’s only one way to find out.” He eyed her curiously as she rose from her knees and dusted her skirts.

“How?”

She reached for the abandoned pair of wooden swords and offered him one. “Show me first.”

He burst out into laughter as the tip of his sword rested in the grass. “But you’re a girl, Aunt Ellie.”

“And?”

“And girls can’t fight.”

“Is that so?” She paused for a moment before lifting her sword and deftly knocking his from his hand.

“That’s not fa-”

She cut across him swiftly. “Sword up.” He did as instructed with a few grumbles; _so like Thorin._ “One foot forward. One hand behind your back. And…go.”

The sun was setting when she finally dropped her sword into the grass and let out a victorious laugh at the grin on Fili’s features.

“That was amazing, irak’ namad!” He too dropped his sword. “How did you learn to do that?”

Ellie opened her mouth to retort but let it fall shut as a smooth reply came from behind her. “She had an excellent teacher.”

“Uncle Thorin!” Ellie rolled her eyes at the enthusiasm pouring from the boys as they both abandoned their entertainments to run to him and laugh as he scooped them into his arms. “Did you see it?” Fili asked. “Did you see us training?”

“I most certainly did.”

“And?”

“Top marks all around.” Fili cheered.

“Well that’s hardly fair.” Ellie mock huffed. “I knocked him down at least three times.”

“The true test of a warrior isn’t how many times he falls.” Thorin said, a glint in his eyes as he lowered the boys to the ground and focused on Fili. “But how many times he gets back up.”

“And I got up loads of times!”

“Exactly, little one.” He ruffled his hair as he stood. “Besides, your aunt had formal training – it wasn’t a fair fight.”

“It was never a fair fight when you were the one knocking me down!” She called over her shoulder a she stepped back into the house, an idea for her canvas forming in her mind. “And I don’t recall that stopping you from keeping score!”

* * *

The schoolhouse was a building Ellie was more than familiar with; her feet found the classroom she had been summoned to with ease and she heaved a sigh at the thought of another meeting with a stern woman telling her that the boys were a nuisance and a constant disruption in the class.

She didn’t know how many times she’d already sat through this chat with the teachers that had taught them since Fili had started here years ago and despite her best efforts they continued to act up and get her called in.

Raising her hand to the door, she sighed and knocked twice, pushing it open at the curt _‘Enter’_ that echoed through the wood.

The room was small, even by her standards and she supressed a groan at the sight of the desk in the front of the room; the slingshot, marbles, paper planes and dagger fashioned from twigs was unquestionably the work of the youngest Durin and one glance to the woman sat primly behind them told her that this was going to be another uncomfortable hour.

“Please, take a seat.” The woman gestured to the pair of chairs set out in front of her and Ellie begrudgingly slid onto the nearest; glad that though Dwarves were known for their shortness, in this realm of mostly men the height difference wasn’t too great. “Will Mr Durin be joining us?”

“He’s at work.” Ellie told her, a forced smile on her lips as the teacher’s eyebrow arched. “So it’s just me I’m afraid.”

“I assume you know why I asked to meet you?”

Ellie suppressed another sigh as she folded her hands in her lap and not for the first time wondered why she was the one getting told off. “Kili can be a handful.” She said; the five words usually a good ice-breaker. “But he’s got a heart of gold.”

“This morning I entered class and was accosted by one of these…” The woman placed a single jade marble onto the already littered desk top. “…does that sound like the actions of someone with a heart of gold, or a troublemaker pushing his luck?”

Ellie paused, her eyes on the marble as she fought a laugh at the mental image of a tiny marble skimming this greying woman and tempered down the rage that had bubbled at the blatant slander of Kili. “Kili tells me this is your first year here.” She smiled softly. “And if I know Kili then this means he’s sizing you up; trying to discern what sort of person you are.”

The woman crossed her arms and leant back in her chair. “Really?”

Ellie ignored her sarcastic question and pasted a smile on her lips. “He likely wanted to know if you were someone he could get along with, or if you were the sort of person who would call me in on the second day of the school year because a marble hit the wall next to you.” She let her smile grow saccharine. “I see we have our answer.”

“Ms Durin…” Ellie bristled at the name. “…I am a person who takes education very seriously. If your family is unable to-”

“My family also takes education very seriously.” Both women jumped at the unexpected voice booming from the doorway. “Hence why both my nephews are in classes with children three years their elders.”

Ellie let a smug smile settle on her face at Thorin’s words and turned from him to the teacher, intent on showing her it. But her smile dropped slightly as she took in the woman; her harsh features were now softer and a light blush was blooming on her cheeks as Thorin strode to the empty chair at her side.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and felt a bubble of something she was unfamiliar with swell inside her as she saw what the teacher was likely seeing; skin coated in a light sheen after hours in the forge and with a definite crease between his eyes, Thorin was every inch the King he had been raised to be, especially as he elected not to sit but stand at her shoulder, arms crossed with an unwavering stare.

“I…I…”

“We’ll talk to Kili.” Ellie said, her tone cold as the woman continued to stammer in the presence of Thorin. “Tell him that scaring the new teacher isn’t a good start to the year.” The woman nodded as Ellie rose from her seat and gesturing to the collection of handmade items littering the desk behind them asked: “But perhaps it would be beneficial to ask yourself whether or not a troublemaker pushing his luck would be able to make such proficient items at eight years old?”

They left without a backwards glance and it was only when they stepped back out into the sunshine did she let herself exhale fully.

“I’ll talk to Kili-”

Ellie cut Thorin off with a raised hand. “I’m done talking to Kili.” She told him. “He’s old enough to know better so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt on this occasion considering how much of an ubrukhs that woman is.”

He shook his head at her but failed to hide the laugh in his voice. “Come, let’s go home.”

They made their way through the town chatting aimlessly about their days and their plans for Fili’s upcoming birthday until they reached their door with a plan on how to deal with the youngest Durin settled between them.

“Ready?” Thorin asked, one hand on the handle and an eyebrow arched in laughter at what lay ahead.

She nodded, wiping the smile from her face, and let him open it before she stepped in. the house was silent and that told her all she needed to know – they were hiding and waiting to find out who she’d be bellowing for after the meeting. Not one to let them down, she waiting until Thorin had closed the door behind them before filling the house with a single shout of: “Killi!” There was a pause and then the sound of a bedroom door opening.

“Get down here now!” Another pause as Thorin’s gruff shout settled and then there were light footsteps on the staircase and a set of big eyes peering at them. “Your aunt and I have just met your teacher.”

Kili flinched at his words and the realisation that just his aunt finding out about his classroom antics would have been bad enough, but for his uncle to have turned up to? He slumped from the stairs to stand in front of them.

Ellie stepped aside, happy to let Thorin simply stare disapprovingly at him while she sourced what she needed from a cupboard.

“Your teacher said that you almost hit her in the face with a marble launched from a handmade catapult.” She didn’t need to look to see him flinch again. “Is this true?” the mumbled _‘yes’_ brought a soft smile to her face once again as her hands closed around the item she’d been looking for. “But you missed her?” Another yes.

“That is unacceptable Kili.” She withdrew the item as Thorin spoke. “You are a Durin of Erebor and that behaviour is unbefitting of such a title.”

“I know.” The boy sighed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry Kili.” Ellie turned to him, the item in her hands. “Be better.” He looked at her questioningly before his eyes settled on the thing in her hands; the wood had been hand-carved by Thorin himself not long after Kili first struggled with the movement of a training sword and was now fitted with a taught string and accompanied by a full quiver. “Improve your aim and next time…hit her in the forehead or don’t bother at all.”

* * *

The house was a flurry of activity and Ellie was in the centre of it all; a pencil tucked behind her ear as she tried to both fold clothes and determine which of the Durin boys was spouting which information at her.

“And then he said that if I wanted to I could stay over.”

“After the party?”

“Party?” Kili frowned. “There is no party; are you listening to me aunt Ellie?”

“Of course I am so that means you…” She turned to Fili and frowned when he wasn’t there. “Fili?”

“Here.” She turned to the sink and found him hastily plaiting a few strands of his hair.

“You’re going to the party?” She asked, a pair of trousers now balled in her frustrated and bewildered hand.

“I sure am.”

“So where are you going?” She asked Kili, huffing when he too was no longer where he had been.

“Eward’s house.” A call sounded from upstairs and then the brunette lad appeared, training swords in hand. “He said I could stay over.”

“I’m staying there too.”

She turned back to Fili with a frown. “Eward? Why are _you_ staying there?”

“His brother said I could after the party.” Fili rolled his eyes.

“So neither of you will be here tonight?” She asked, snatching the swords from Kili as he tried to stuff them into his overnight bag.

“Hey!”

“No swords!” She told him as Fili ignored them and continued to braid his hair. “Are those your uncle’s beads?”

“Maybe.”

“Fili.” She sighed. “Have you asked?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like he wears them anyway; says they’d melt in the heat of the forge.”

“I want beads!”

“You can’t have them.”

“Why not?” Kili pouted. “Aunt Ellie! Fili won’t share his bea-”

“They’re not _his_ beads.” She reminded them as she collected a clean shirt from the pile of laundry. “And I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you going to this party; who else is going?”

Fili fixed her with an unimpressed stare that was entirely Thorin before turning his back to her as she once again took the swords from Kili.

“Eward said I could bring them!”

“Eward doesn’t know that you’ll whack him to the Iron Hills and back if he lets you!” She chided. “You’ve been training with these since you could walk and…is that a bow in your bag?”

“…no…”

“Give it to me.” She held out her hand, the swords nestled under her arm. “Give me the bow and however many arrows are in there too.”

“Fine.”

“God you’re such a child.” Ellie rolled her eyes at the scathing remark from Fili and wondered if she’d have taken them on so readily if she’d known what living with a teenager was like.

“Who else is going tonight?” She asked, unpacking Kili’s bag and replacing his catapult and toy soldiers with thing’s he’d actually need like pyjamas and a toothbrush. “I won’t let you through that door unless you tell me wh-”

“Fine! It’s just a few people from school – you know them all.”

“Is _Talia_ going?” Ellie sighed at the glare Fili shot his little brother as Kili continued to drag out the girl’s name. “I bet you’re excited to spend time with _Talia_ aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“Does _Talia_ know you spent all last Saturday with _Kaylin_?”

“Shut up Kili.”

“Who’s Kaylin?” Ellie asked with a frown as Fili huffed and Kili giggled.

“No one, now can I go?”

She paused, a clean shirt of Kili’s in her hand as she deliberated whether or not to let him. “Yes.” She sighed, brightening slightly when he pressed a victorious kiss to her cheek and all but bolted from the house.

“Don’t stay out too la-” She cut herself off as the door swung shut. “Why do I even bother?”

“Please can I take the swords?” She turned back to the youngest Durin and sighed at the puppydog look he was giving her.

“Kili, you could seriously hurt him if-”

“Pleeeeease.”

“Kili I-”

“Why does it look like a bomb has gone off in here?” She heaved a sigh as Thorin let the door shut behind him and muttered about new hinges as he dropped his bag onto the table still strewn with the toys Kili had filled his own with.

“Uncle Thorin please can I take the training swords to Eward’s?”

“Eward? Training swords?” Thorin glanced to her with a frown and she rammed the last of Kili’s clothes into his bag with a huff.

“He’s staying with a friend and I’ve already said no to the swords and the bow and the catapult and the rest of the armoury _you’ve_ provided for them.”

“But-” A light knock on the door cut Kili off and the small boy only slightly taller than him standing on the other side of it with a big grin ended the conversation.

“Thank you for coming to pick him up Eward.” Ellie sighed, running a hand through her hair and frowning at the three pencils she found lurking in her loose bun. “Kili, please remember to go to sleep at a reasonable time?”

“I’ll try.” She didn’t need to look behind him to know his fingers were crossed as he pulled his bag from the table with one hand before giggling conspiratorially with Eward.

She rolled her eyes at the pair and pressed a kiss to Kili’s hair before ushering him through the door. “Have fun!” She watched them turn to leave and felt her eyebrow arch as Thorin slipped the pair of training swords from where they were propped against the table and pass them off to the boys before all but slamming the door behind them with a grin. “I saw that.”

“Saw what?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

* * *

As the years rolled past, the house had entered a new era where one day it would be deathly quiet, and Ellie could sit back and actually get some work done with both teenagers out of her hair, or it would be utter chaos with each bringing home three friends who needed to be fed and have sleeping bags found for. There didn’t seem to be a calm middle ground anymore. Gone were the days of the four of them sat around the table discussing their days or the peaceful sight of two boys laying in front of a blazing fire reading to each other.

Today was a silent day.

Breakfast had consisted of bleary eyes and last minute homework as she berated them for slacking on deadlines, while she crossed another day off their calendar and wondered when Thorin would be home. Lunch had been just her, as always, with Fili and Kili safe in school before the elder checked on their Uncle’s forge on his way home. But dinner was when the silence truly fell.

Neither boys spent much time at home after school these days with their attentions being taken by promises of games with friends (Kili) and a blush from a pretty girl (Fili). The sight of them bursting through the door and letting another stream of mid-afternoon sun into the house as they deposited their bags and ran back out was one very familiar to her, but usually she had someone else to keep her company as they whirled through the space.

Thorin had been gone for months now and as she stood, eyes closed and head bent towards the sky, she wondered how much longer the weather would be keeping him from her. They had only had a few flakes here, but she remembered the winters of Erid Luin well and judging by the annoyed tone of his last letter, the snowfalls hadn’t diminished in their absence.

She knew he was likely as eager to get home as she was to have him back; Erid Luin held few heart-warming memories for them and he wouldn’t have bothered to venture back to the mountain range had it not been for Balin’s letter. The elder man was a more than capable ambassador for the Erebor originating Dwarves but there were some matters that only a King could properly deal with.

The fact that the boys were older now too gave him no real excuse to avoid the visit and so he’d set off with a grim smile and a promise to lay a wreath on Dis’ grave. That had been a month ago. Durin’s day had come and gone and she’d felt like a limb was missing as only three settled around the table to mark another year gone.

She wondered how many more they’d celebrate together. Fili was practically a man and set to finish his schooling within a few weeks and then what? She had no idea what the boy, no; man, had planned for his future and any attempt to bring it up had caused a rather tense atmosphere to linger in the house. Kili had longer to go; he was only just entering his teenage years and she rather loved that the age gap between them meant she was still able to press a kiss to his forehead without him rubbing it off.

But once they were both gone? What then? Thorin would no doubt have to take on more visits to Erid Luin and that just left her in an empty house…alone.

She shook herself and moved from the garden, the light snowfall still managing to chill her quickly. Winter always brought out a gloomy side to her, and if she hadn’t spent most of her life living within mountains she’d blame it on the lack of sunlight, but she knew that winter just signalled a time to reflect and today, her head was clear enough to do so.

Selling half-decent sketches (she’d continue to bat away any attempt to say they were even a little good) could only take up so much of her time especially with no toys to pick up or clothes to keep washing despite warnings not to play in mud. Perhaps when Kili was a little older she too would venture beyond this town. Perhaps…perhaps she could be of some use to her people too?

So engrossed in her thoughts she missed the lifting of the latch and the slight squeak of the door hinges that refuse to disappear no matter how much oil was used on it. She even missed the light thud of a pack settling on the floor and booted feet crossing the kitchen and living space to join her at the window.

She missed it all but the light hand on her waist was enough to jolt her back to the present and as she spun to face the intruder a smile broke out onto her lips.

 “Your letter said not to expect you anytime soon!”

“Surprise.” She felt all worry of the future slide away at the smooth delivery of that one word. “Thought I’d catch you while it was quiet here.”

“It’s always quiet here.” She told him, the hands on her hips brining some warmth into her cooled body as she gingerly played with the pair of identical beads he wore in his hair; the silver squares set with the crest of Durin fixed at the end of braids that often went unnoticed in the ferocity of the rest of his mane, were a reminder of who he was and what they’d done to survive. Suddenly two Princes growing into young men felt like a silly thing to worry over when she thought back to what they’d lived through just to get here.

“Come with me next time.” He offered, watching her closely. “Fili would have kept an eye on his brother this time but-”

“We’d have come home to no house and starving children.” She told him with a soft smile. “They’re still young.”

“You once berated me for keeping their mother young; perhaps you should let them grow as I had to with Dis.”

“Perhaps.” She stepped out of his hold. “But they’re our boys Thorin; I’d give my life for them.”

“You already have.” He told her. “You’ve given so many times to so many people and now…perhaps you can give your life to yourself.”

“And if I wanted to share it? What if we-”

“Uncle!” The pair of dwarves snapped out of the bubble that had seemed to form around them and turned to the doorway where two grinning boys stood. “You’re home! How was Erid Luin?”

“It was…” Thorin paused, his eyes quickly meeting hers as she shot him a rueful smile before strolling back to the kitchen table where she dropped a kiss on each of Fili and Kili’s heads. “I’m glad to be home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English Translations:
> 
> Sanûrzud – perfect sun  
> Irak’ namad - aunt  
> Ubrukhs - goblin


	10. Reflections

The sun was still low in the sky as the front door of a small but treasured home opened and a bleary-eyed dwarf flinched at the creak he had never been able to get rid of as the hinge stretched to 90°. He stared out across the still sleeping village they had called home for some years now and let a deep inhale fill his lungs with the bone cold chill of dawn air.

Behind him, inside the house, a pair of footsteps were wandering around checking the contents of their kitchen cupboards and the amount of firewood they had left before pausing and letting the silence of the house fall over them again.

He’d already secured their packs to the saddles of two ponies he’d spent the last week sourcing and all that was left to do was mount them and they’d be off. He didn’t press her though, knew that she needed the next few minutes to talk herself into walking out through this door and not just lock it and go back to bed; back to the life they’d lived for so long. So he simply stood and watched the pair of ponies softly kick their hooves and let their shaggy manes be tousled by the wind.

“Beautiful creatures.” He almost jumped at the proximity of her voice now and turned his head slightly to meet her eyes as she too watched the creatures. “Vanners?”

“Aye.” It had been a pain to find them, but it was going to be a long journey and he knew how much she admired the beasts with their flowing hair and feathering around their ankles. “Are you ready?” He asked, trying not to push her but his eyes kept flicking to the horizon and the hours they’d be losing if they didn’t leave soon.

“Perhaps I should stay with them.” She mumbled, her eyes still on the ponies. “Perhaps this is a mistake.”

“You’ve spent a year writing back and forth with the Dwarf Lords; to not turn up now would be-”

“Rude.” She sighed, finishing for him. “I know.” He felt her fingers curl into his palm as she silently made her decision. “They are grown.” She said aloud as if trying to remind herself of that fact. “They are adults.”

“You clearly didn’t just see Kili fall out of bed.” He felt the corners of his lips prick up at the new voice behind him and the mass of blonde hair that swept past him as she twirled to face two even sleepier dwarves, still in their nightclothes with small smiles on their faces. “Didn’t really think we’d let you go without a proper goodbye, did you?” Fili asked as Kili rubbed at his eyes. Grown men indeed.

“You should be in bed.” Ellie told them, her attempt at a scold pointless when paired with her loving smile. “You both have work today.”

“We can man the forge with our eyes closed.” Kili mumbled, a dopey smile now on his features. “Don’t worry about us.”

Ellie laughed lightly. “I will spend my life worrying about you two.” She stepped forward and pressed a kiss to each of their brows and Thorin found himself wondering exactly when his boy nephews had grown as tall as him. “Thank you for coming down.”

“Safe travels.” Fili said mirroring her actions and pressing his lips to her own brow.

“Don’t fret about us.” Kili grinned also kissing her. “We are perfectly capable of putting out any and all fires that we accidently set.”

“Ki-” Thorin stepped in and took her by the shoulders, cutting her off as he steered her back to the door and shot his youngest nephew a classic Durin scowl of non-amusement at his poor joke.

“Write when you get there!” Fili called out as Ellie planted her right foot into a stirrup and Thorin grasped his nephew’s forearms in farewell. “We’ll be fine!” He assured her, and the three men watched as she pulled herself into the saddle, the side splits of her longline tunic parting to reveal her riding breeches and boots, and the wind ruffling her hair to reveal the woman that had traversed mountain passes on foot in the search for a new home for her folk.

Thorin felt the hand on his wrist tighten and pull him from the sight of her; the woman who had saved his people, saved his kin and raised his heirs. “Look after her.”

He met Kili’s eyes with a raised brow and let out a soft laugh. “If you think your aunt needs anyone to look after her, you’re sorely wrong my boy.” He released his nephew with a knowing smile. “Besides, I’ve watched her back since before you were born.” He crossed to the horse and mounted with ease. “And she mine.”

* * *

Seeing them before they left had seemed to do the job and they were out of the town and into the open grasslands of Middle Earth without even a glance back, though he knew for a fact that both of his nephews would be stood on their doorstep watching them until they had vanished for sight. The though made him smile deeply. 

If there was one thing he treasured more than anything else, it was the relationship between his heirs and the woman who had raised them. His mind skipped back through the years and he let himself settle into the saddle with memories of red faces on everyone as one of them slipped up and called Ellie ‘amad’. She had simply smiled sadly at them and carried on with whatever she was doing and that was why he adored her; she had never tried to take Dis’ place. Both Fili and Kili had grown up with a sketch of their mother at their bedsides and the knowledge of who she was how she loved them so in their hearts.

He knew this was hard on her; it was the first time since Dis had died that she’d been separated from them and it must be tearing at her as it had torn at him those handful of years ago when he had first returned to Erid Luin. He had spent the whole journey wondering what they were doing and if they had enough firewood as the snows came in. His family were everything to him and that’s exactly why he’d brought her with him this time.

It had been a lifetime since she had left the mountain range and after so long spent moulding two boys into men, she deserved a break; deserved to have something more in her life now they were grown. And so he hadn’t hesitated when, on his last visit, her name had been brought up as well as her family knowledge of dealing with rare gems and a request had been penned for her to visit Erid Luin and cast her eye over a batch of emeralds of questionable origin.

They were making good time now, he realised as he shook himself from his thoughts and scanned the environment around them. He anticipated that only one-night need be spent under the stars and they’d reach the mountains with the sun still high.

Glancing over to her he saw that she too seemed to be lost in her mind and wondered what she was reliving; the trek to the mountains when they were exhausted and on foot after the journey from Moria, or the rickety wagon ride back down these paths as they escaped the ghosts of their past?

* * *

 The ride into Erid Luin had been as heart wrenching as she’d expected it would be. Nothing had changed, not really. There were a few faces she couldn’t place a fresh coat of paint on some doors but otherwise, it was the same.

When they had entered the mountain metropolis, barely any dwarf had noticed their presence and that fleeting moment of nothingness had given her enough time to glance to Thorin and allow his soft, worry-filled smile to settle her. A quick, almost imperceptible nod of her head to tell him she was fine had been the kindling to the fire that was recognition in these halls.

A heartbeat later and crowds had formed around their steeds with people calling out for their King and trying to shuffle into lines to allow them through. She watched Thorin from the corner of her eye and felt a real smile grace her lips as he changed before her; gone was the man worried over how she would handle returning here, the man who she knew hadn’t let his eyes close for their longed-for rest last night until she herself had settled and in his place, was a King.

Back straight and a benevolent smile on his face, Thorin pushed his horse forwards and soon they were slowly winding their way through the mountain, side-by-side, with their people calling out for them. And in that moment, she knew Thorin had been right to tell her to come; to tell her that this was as much her duty as two Dwarven Princes were. He knew that that one word was enough to get her involved; duty.

In Erebor it had been her duty to keep Dis out of trouble and then it had been her duty to keep the family business running. Her entire life had revolved around duty; to her family, to the people of Erebor…to Thorin. And now her duty was to herself; to forge a place for herself here in this community she had abandoned in her grief.

They had managed without them; the bustling markets and boom in numbers was evidence enough of that but they were entering a new age now; one of actual prosperity as they not only survived but thrived. The people of Erebor in the halls of Erid Luin were talked about through the land; their craftsmanship unparalleled and their story of triumph beguiling. But prosperity meant that things needed to be dealt with. More trade meant better deals were needed and better deals required someone with actual experience of governance.

She and Thorin had learnt together all those years ago when worries of his grandfather had been his every other thought and now they were to put their knowledge gained in the library of Erebor to actual use. Thorin would deal with ruling his people; making decisions about new laws and planning the future of this community and she would negotiate trade deals. It was a role she was born to do as she’d proved in her letters to the other Dwarf Lords of Erid Luin and now she was ready to see all she had written put into practice.

They reached the end of the Erebor settlement with relative ease and as they waited at the cavernous doors to the epicentre of the Blue Mountains she knew this was exactly what Mahal had planned for them both; a trial of strength followed by an age of peace. It was what the people deserved. It was what _they_ deserved.

* * *

“No, I’m sorry but that is completely unacceptable! As requests go this is by far the most ridiculous and I for one-”

Ellie stifled a yawn as she tuned out the ranting Dwarf stood opposite her and instead let herself relax into the padding of the high-backed chair she’d commandeered the first day she’d been led to this council chamber. This room, much like the rest of this part of the Blue Mountains was carved entirely from the crystal core that the rocky landscape had formed around. From the hallways to the bedrooms to the kitchens, every room emitted a mystical light blue glow from the rock-hard walls and floors and despite the beauty of it all, she found the cold surface to be an excellent indicator of the type of people who dwelled in the heart of this mountain range.

The Dwarf Lords had declared this area of outstanding beauty and craftmanship their home almost immediately after first settling here and carving it out. The onyx black doors that separated it from either end of the range had promptly been erected and to this day, sealed off these crystal corridors from the rest of the Dwarves in Erid Luin.

Ellie wondered if that was half the reason they seemed so unaware of what the people around them actually needed from rulers. She eyed the platter of food that had sat primly in the centre of the round table that filled the room distastefully as she recalled how every time they adjourned it would be removed and wasted after being picked and sniffed at by haughty Dwarves.

She was tired of the ones surrounding her at present. Tired of them always arguing with her and dismissing her opinions and beliefs on the grounds that she was a woman.

“And another thing; should someone who _lost_ their treasure the last time around really be negotiating to build up another reserve? I mean, it is one thing for a deposed King to seek a fortune, but a woman with no actual ties to the throne?” He scoffed. “I think we can all agree that-”

“I tire of your tirade…my Lord.” She said, hands clasped in front of her as her elbows rested on the chair arms and fought a grin at the affronted huff he gave at the pause in addressing him by title (she was going to get in all the kicks she could, even if they were thinly veiled and childish). “And I would remind you that I did not come here for your opinion on whether or not I am a suitable representative of my people, that is for my _King_ to decide, not you.”

The old man simply stared at her, eyeing her relaxed pose with disdain and she felt the corners of her lips try and pull into a smile as he again let his gaze wander over her outfit. She had elected to wear the exact opposite of what they’d been expecting of her and knew that the fur trimmed duster jacket she wore over a Durin blue shirt and skin-tight breeches tucked into boots was more than off-putting for the stuck-in-their-ways men.

“Now…” She unclasped her hands and gestured to the open pad in front of her. “…would you care to answer the question I actually asked? Or would you prefer to waste another hour of our precious time?”

“I…”

“I’ll remind you.” She pushed a single sheet of paper forward. “My people want mining rights; will you grant them?”

“The people of Erebor have never been denied the opportunity to work in the mountain’s many mines.” A different man piped up, the half-moon glasses that had sat on his nose for the duration of the meeting, as he read through the various pieces of paper in front of him, now in his hand as he met her gaze. “Mining rights are a…” He waved the glasses around as he tried to think of way of phrasing it. “…non-topic.”

She forced a sweet smile. “I disagree, my Lord.” She slid forward to perch on the edge of her seat. “My people were promised a replica of their homeland when they settled here. Working for people who don’t understand their traditions and methods is not a replica.”

“You mean working for people who were granted these prosperous mines by Mahal himself is no longer enough for wandering Dwarves who were generously gifted land by the very men you now condemn?”

“I think, Sir, that you are not so much affronted by the fact that I am asking for rights, as you are by the fact that the Lords above you; those who meet with my _King_ and not a lowly Ambassador, elected to grant land against _your_ advice?”

The room fell silent at her words and she took the opportunity to slide another sheet forward into the dead centre of the table.

“A copy…” She told them. “…of the land agreement written when my people arrived. It clearly states that we are entitled to bring matters such as this to the councils for debate.” She met each of their gazes. “I have another question for you all.” She slid back and let her palms meet again. “How much did goods from the Blue Mountains sell for before the Erebor settlement?”

“An impossible figure to calculate.” The Lord opposite her sniffed, his derision rolling off him in waves.

“I’ll simplify it then.” She smiled. “Did they retail for more or less before the Erebor settlement? Before the quality of the work increased tenfold?” She paused to allow one of them to answer and felt her smile deepen at their uncomfortable shifting. “And if I now inform you that my _incredibly talented_ people are more than happy to suspend work for…fifty years? That would cripple you.”

“They can’t suspend working!” One dwarf exclaimed as she sat back and let them explode around her with various cries of; “Who do you think you are?!” and “Throw them all out!” filled the air.

“If they don’t work their own families will starve.” Her main opposition said, his calm tone cutting through the room like a knife. All eyes were back on her.

“My people were desperate but not stupid when we accepted your gift.” She told them. “All these years of buying cheap metal and ore from mines who deemed them worthless has led to a substantial stockpile. We have gold. We have gems. It’s the stuff you were willing to throw away. My people can survive for quite some time just by taking their coppers down into the realms of Men…can _yours_?”

* * *

Thorin hated the politics of ruling. Hated how he had to explain every little motivation he had for trying to help his people continue to thrive to a room full of people who had never even seen a mountain mine.

He wondered how Balin had kept a cool head all these years and had not simply told the Dwarf Lords to _imrid amrâd ursul_? The older man was infinitely better at this than he and was probably the only reason they’d actually achieved anything since he arrived.

He thought back to his most recent meeting and grimaced slightly at the turn it had taken. He and Ellie had discussed at length what their priorities were for this first diplomatic event between them and the other Lords and mining rights had been prominent in their minds even before meeting with Balin and the man detailed the conditions their people were working in under the unexperienced eyes of Erid Luin Dwarves.

_“And when was the last time you were down a mineshaft, Your Grace?” Thorin felt himself bristle at the sneering tone of the man in front of him and channelled every calming influence he could to avoid reaching across and driving his face into the table surface._

_“Two days ago.” He said, watching smugly as the eyes in the room widened slightly. “Lady Eleonóra and I ventured down one of your own actually, my Lord.” He flashed him a smile. “And were shocked by what we found.”_

_“Who gave you permission to-”_

_“As a Dwarf Lord and King of a territory within this range, I think you’ll find I’m free to inspect anything I think may be endangering lives…which you are by the way.”_

_“I-”_

_“And so I put to you; when was the last time you were at the rock face and not sat here filling your own?”_

Yes, Balin had definitely had to smooth a few ruffled feathers after that one. But it seemed to have worked and new regulations for mine owners was being drafted at this very moment. All he needed now was for Ellie to waltz through the door with an agreement for their people to own and run their own mines and a large chunk of what they’d set out to achieve would be done.

His lips stretched into a smile as at that very moment the doors to the suite of rooms he’d been allocated, burst open and frightened half to death the group of Ambassadors Balin had elected through the years.

“And?” He drawled, craning his neck to watch her sashay in, a very smug grin firmly on her lips.

“The paperwork will be delivered to you before tomorrows feast.” She told him, laughing at the cheers the rest of her colleagues let out from their scattered positions through the sitting room.

“A fine job, lass.” Balin grinned from the seat next to him. “Not that I ever doubted you.” He added, a twinkle in his eye as she wandered over to them and sunk beside him onto the settee.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Balin. Smart move hoarding all that gold.”

“They’ve refused to even meet with us for an entire year on the matter and you settle it in three days?” A dwarf on the other side of the room commented as all eyes remained on the trio in the centre of the room. “You must have magical powers.” He added, impressed. “The Dwarf Lords will be offering us diamonds to have you on their side.”

Ellie laughed before batting her eyelashes at Thorin. “My beloved King would never sell me.”

He hummed his agreement as he signed his name to the document in his hands. “Not for a few measly diamonds anyway.”

There was a beat of silence and he knew the dwarves around them had stopped all their actions to wait and see her reaction. Convention states that she should bow her head and realise her place beside a King, but they were much more than King and subject and-

“Rukhs shirumundu.”

“Namin men burk.”

She winked at him. “Yamal.” And he wondered if she knew the effect she still had on him? Wondered if she knew just how much his pulse quickened at the sight of her? Wondered when he would work up the nerve to ask her such things?

* * *

He had spent the day alternating between reading over the agreement Ellie had finished hashing out this very morn and pacing through his rooms. He’d dismissed the rest of his Ambassadors a few hours earlier under the pretence of readying themselves for the feast being thrown in his honour.

He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to make the journey to the ballroom full of people who thought themselves more important that anyone else. Didn’t want to be a part of the whole damn thing.

Pacing had resumed quickly after he’d dressed in the fine robes the Lords had gifted him for this very event and he’d paid little attention to what had been laid out for him but now, after his gaze had been snagged by the long length mirror in his bedchamber he could scarcely identify the man who was staring back at him.

It was not someone he’d seen for a long time. A lifetime, even.

The Durin blue was the only familiar thing about his reflection; the colour having played a prominent role in his life even after Erebor. He often wore a shirt of this colour to work and it was dotted through their home back in the lands of Men, with both Kili and Fili decked in this shade for anything remotely important as a reminder of who they were and where they came from. He’d even been wearing it here, the colour infinitely warmer than the cool blue the mountain heart was carved of and he found comfort in seeing it on all his Ambassadors though their jerkins and jackets and shirts.

So it was not the richness of the colour that startled him. Nor how calm his hair looked; the twin beads he wore either side of his face another common thing in his daily attire as well as the neatly trimmed beard. He fingered the beads lightly; their presence another reminder of home as he thought of the brothers they’d left there both wearing identical copies of the silver stamped ‘D’ through their own unkempt hair.

Even his robes were comforting. They were a familiar style to those he had worn in Erebor and he was not unfamiliar with the close fit of his doublet and soft fur trim on his jacket.

Individually, each component was simple; pieces that he knew and identified easily. But together? He could still feel the momentary stop of his heart as he’d caught a glimpse of a path his life may once have taken. He saw a King.

The creaking of a door caught his attention and he turned to face it. He felt his mouth dry at the sight that stepped though it and found himself mentally reminding his lungs to inhale and exhale and not just lie dormant.

“I still think improvements can be made.” He glanced to the paper in her hands and chuckled softly at her furrowed brow as she re-read the agreement.

“You just want to take all you can from them because they said you weren’t good enough.”

She sighed and dropped her hands, the paper brushing against her skirts. “Is that petty of me?”

“Incredibly.” She rolled her eyes at him and set the sheet down before crossing the living space to linger in the doorway of his bedchamber.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked, eyeing his position at the mirror. “Can’t get you hair right?” She teased. “Or is it too perfect and you’re worried they’ll think you care about tonight?”

“I always air on the side of perfect.” He shrugged, trying to stop his eyes from roaming over her. He was failing.

He’d seen her in dresses many times before. In Erebor she’d always been in one and she’d worn them here and in the town too. But tonight was different. Tonight, she was as she’d never been before.

The blue, while identical to his own in shade, was riddled with silver thread which shone with every step she took as she moved from the doorway, reminding him of the paths shooting stars left behind as they raced overhead. It was simple, and he loved her for it; the silhouette was standard and though she showed no skin below her collarbone, she was a vision and more tempting than if she’d stood before him in nothing but a wisp of tulle.

“You’re beautiful.” He managed to say and felt a rush of pride at the light blush that spotted on her cheeks as she smoothed out the material fanning at her waist.

“I’d forgotten how talented maids are.” She said, stepping closer to him. “The things they can do with a brush of powder and a handful of pins puts me to shame.”

“No.” He reached out and took one of her hands in his own, tugging her closer to him and preventing her from prodding at the coiled bun resting low on the back of her neck. “You _always_ look beautiful.”

“Thorin-”

“For the first time since Smaug attacked we are truly alone.” He told her, gesturing around them. “Our people are safe, Dis is gone and the boys are grown.”

“Why are you saying this?”

“I’ve never had the chance to thank you.” He told her. “Not for everything you’ve done since Smaug but…before…with my grandfather and-”

“Thorin you don’t-”

He held up a hand to silence her and smiled softly at the power that one gesture seemed to have over her. perhaps he looked more of a King than he’d realised. “Thank you isn’t the only thing I’ve neglected to say.” He told her, his thumb brushing over the jewelled rings that had been slid onto her fingers by her maids. “Ellie, I…I…” He dropped her hand and cursed lightly under his breath. “In Erebor you were the only one who ever treated me like a person, not a Prince. And you gave so much of yourself so willingly to anyone who asked. You pulled my sister from her shell, made my father laugh, taught my brother a few hard lessons in the training yard and…you were there for me when I tried to shoulder a realm on my own.” He met her searching eyes. “Is it any wonder that you were the only girl to hold my heart?”

“Thorin…”

“But you’re a woman now and my family had asked so much more of you that I would not begrudge you if you didn’t feel the same, but I need to know; I have to know if you-”

He hadn’t felt her hand bunch in his jacket. Hadn’t seen her step closer. Hadn’t realised her intentions of shutting his babbling up. But he felt her lips on his and let a soft exhale of relief out through his nose as one hand gripped at her waist and pulled her closer as the other cupped her jaw softly; their mouths hungry for lost years and dampened feelings.

As they broke apart for air he felt a true smile of sheer happiness settle on his lips as they simply stared at each other.

“Varak, demup vel rumush kardun.” She breathed. “Men kemgu dolzekh menu, Thanu men.”

Thorin smiled down at her, the Khuzdul flowing effortlessly off her lips and into his heart as his eyes were once again caught by the mirror. It again showed him something he was shocked to find; a man with lightness in his heart and his love in his hold.

He saw a King and Queen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul to English translations:
> 
> Imrid amrâd ursul – die a death of flames (basically; burn in hell)  
> Rukhs shirumundu – beardless orc  
> Namin men burk – kiss my axe  
> Yamal – with pleasure  
> Varak, demup vel rumush kardun – loyalty, honour and a willing heart  
> Men kemgu dolzekh menu, Thanu men – I accept your thanks, my King
> 
>  
> 
> Dress Inspiration:   
> 1) https://i0.wp.com/thefashioninsider.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/775002281_KS_3331_ED1936FF5DA8F663C642EC723A30D0B7.jpg?w=1200  
> 2) https://i2.wp.com/thefashioninsider.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/775002281_KS_3735_02F45F05801BB6910131B2BC7199B6E7.jpg?w=1200


	11. The Head of an Empty Table

It’s funny how easily you can fall into a routine. Even funnier when said routine involves returning to the very mountain responsible for so much past pain. But time moves on and hearts are mended in the process and Ellie focused not on how there would always be a host of Durin’s missing from the dining table in Thorin’s Erid Luin suites, and instead on how the two boys she had wholeheartedly devoted her life thus far too, make their Uncle proud as they learn the craft of Kings in the mountains of their people.

And so they spent the summers in the cool caverns of Erid Luin and the harsh Middle Earth winters in their cosy home with Thorin working at his blazing forge.

Granted though, moving the four of them up and down a mountain range as the seasons changed was perhaps not the simplest way of doing things but none of them wanted it to be their permanent home. While Fili had very few memories of the place, his brother had none, and both were more at ease to call the four walls of their cottage their true home. Not that Thorin ever let them forget that it was in fact a mountain far to the East that was their truest of homes.

But they were comfortable here and Fili and Kili couldn’t deny that being heir apparent to Thorin had its perks; neither had been without adoring glances since they first set foot into the heart of the mountains.

Ellie rolled her eyes as she watched them both flirt shamelessly at the gathering they’d been forced to attend for the Summer Solstice. Both of her boys were decked in Durin blue, much like their Uncle, and were very much enjoying the attention the regal colour brought.

“I don’t know where they get it from.” She felt a smile bloom on her lips as a gravelly voice appeared at her shoulder and a hand rested on her waist.

“It’s the Durin charm.” She told Thorin, her eyes still on the pair with their easy smiles and full laughs. “No one can withstand it.”

“You did.” He reminded her as she turned to face him. “For a great many years.”

“I repressed its effects.” She told him, brushing away a speck of non-existent dirt on his tunic. The deep grin he offered to her told her he saw through her poorly concealed effort to simply be closer to him. “But trust me when I say I did not withstand it.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed, my King.”

He rolled his eyes at the title and she let her hand drop from his chest. “Let me kiss you.” He said, his eyes boring into her own. “In front of everyone and let us put an end to this charade.”

“Thorin…”

His hand tightened on her waist as her eyes flickered to the packed room to ensure no one was watching them. “I care little for decorum, Ellie. And I am past sneaking around.”

“We aren’t _sneaking around_.” She told him. “Sneaking implies we’re doing something wrong.” She felt her cheeks heat at the implication.

“Then let us tell them.” He nodded to Fili and Kili. “Let us tell them and then every realm that will listen.”

She sighed and pried his hand from her waist. “Thorin…I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Ellie…”

“I am not your betrothed Thorin and if you kissed me right here right now, people would think I was some…” She glanced around and let her voice drop, well aware of the company that surrounded them despite the apparent privacy of the alcove they were in. “…whore.”

And that’s when she knew she’d said the wrong thing; his eyes blazed at the word and she knew he would defend her reputation to the hilt (they had after all, done nothing more than kiss as yet – even though the kisses seemed to be lasting longer and leaving her heart pounding faster with the canopies of his bed almost always in her eyeline), but she had worked too hard to get these Dwarves on her side and she’d be back to square one if they thought she were spreading her legs for her King.

“Then I’ll wed you tomorrow and we-”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” She told him, her voice sharp as she failed to understand why he couldn’t do this; why he couldn’t break all protocol just to kiss her in public.

“Ridiculous.” He echoed her, and she heaved a sigh as he took a step back, out of the alcove.

“Thorin you know I didn’t mean-”

“I understand perfectly well what you mean.” He tilted his head to her. “My Lady.” And promptly turned and stalked off, the crowd swallowing him whole as she was left lingering in the shadows.

* * *

Breakfast was a strained affair. The rectangular table at which they met every morning was deathly silent as each of its four occupants refused to make eye contact with each other. Fili and Kili spent their time alternating between picking at their food and trying to repress low moans of pain as the sheer amount of ale they consumed the night before continued to pillage their systems.

Ellie would feel sorry for them if it weren’t for the spark of rage begging to burst into an explosion that was sitting within her chest. He hadn’t so much as glanced at her since their conversation last night and had so far spent the entirety of the meal reading papers that she knew for a fact could wait until they parted ways for the day. Thorin was being stubborn, and she didn’t know why she was surprised; he was a Durin after all.

And so, instead of the usual chatter that filled the room at this time of day, her ears were instead ringing with the sounds of cutlery scraping across china on either side and the incessant ruffling of papers from opposite her.

She set her own knife and fork down gently and let her palms rest together at the edge of the table as she made to break the silence. “I-”

“Good Morning!” The words died on her lips as the main doors to the suite opened and Balin strode merrily in with his team of Erebor Ambassadors at his back. “I trust we all have sore heads today?”

“You’re in a good mood.” Thorin noted, setting his papers to the side for the first time in the last hour. Ellie withheld a huff as his eyes totally bypassed her to instead watch the man approaching them from the sitting area behind her.

“Of course I am.” Balin grinned as he came to a stop at their table and gestured for the Ambassadors to begin setting up the days work in the sitting area. “I slept well, had a hearty breakfast and get to spend the day watching the young princes inspect the forges.”

“Oh Mahal no.” Kili groaned, lifting his chin from the heel of his wrist to meet Balin’s gleeful smile with bloodshot eyes. “Not _this_ morning.”

“We only got in a handful of hours ago.” Fili added, his complexion sour and hair significantly more matted than usual.

“And yet it has been on the calendar for a month.” Thorin reminded them, his own grin making them groan further.

“Uncle…please?” Kili tried. “We’ll be more of a hinderance than-”

“No.”

“Aunt Ellie.” She let her eyebrow raise as both princes turned to her instead. “We’ll be a disgrace; a total let down of our family name if we-”

“I said _no_.” Thorin cut across them as she opened her mouth to reply. “And that is final.” All traces of teasing were gone from his voice as he stared them down.

She placed her cup back into its saucer as gently as possible as their complaints turned to mumbles and Balin shifted awkwardly at their side. “Your uncle is correct; shirking your duty is not an option.” They mumbled their apologies before returning their focus to their untouched plates. “A message that could have been conveyed _without_ shouting.” She murmured to herself as she too lifted her cutlery.

“I beg your pardon?”

Her hands stilled, and she lifted her eyes to meet a pair of thunderous blue not unlike her own. She let her eyes dart around as the silence that had once again fallen reached her and cleared her throat as she replaced her cutlery. “I said; a message that could have been conveyed _without_ shouting.” She met his gaze.

“My apologies, my Lady, for disciplining _my_ nephews.”

She let her palms cross again as she straitened her spine and met his gaze with her own ferocious one. “Disciplining them _unnecessarily_ , you mean?”

“I-”

“Go back to your papers Thorin; you much more pleasant when you were ignoring us.”

Another deathly silence fell as they continued to simply glare at each other; the spark of rage growing slowly until he opened his mouth again, this time to speak to his most trusted Advisor.

“Cancel the meeting this afternoon.” He said simply, his eyes burning as she began to object. “Lady Eleonóra clearly does not have the right temperament to play nice today.”

“How dare yo-” She cut herself off immediately and squared her shoulders. “Give us the room.”

The four-word order might as well have been a call to arms as the two seats either side of her pushed back instantly and the room around them emptied with the soft click of the door signalling that they were alone and effectively sealed off the dining room from the rest of the Erebor delegation.

“What in Mahal’s name is _wrong_ with you?” She asked.

“I am sorry to have displeased you, my Lady.” He said, his voice taking on the baritone that always signalled his mind was not going to be changed easily. “Often I find my _ridiculousness_ hard to quell.”

“If you’re being an ass because of last night then you _are_ ridiculous!”

He brought his fist down hard on the table surface as she spoke. “I will not have you speak to me in that way at _my own table_!”

“I will speak to you as I wish at _our_ table!” She countered, well aware that their voices were rising and the thickness of the dining room door would soon not be enough to award them privacy from the lingering dwarves on the other side. “You will not embarrass me in front of the entire delegation because you misunderstood me!”

“I will do as I wish in front of _my_ delegation, in _my_ suite to _my_ subordinate.”

“Your subordinate.” She echoed, her voice dropping to a whisper before increasing to a higher, sharper tone. “Your _subordinate_?” She took a breath, pushed her chair back and stood. “I will not have this conversation with you now; you’re clearly not going to listen to me and-”

“Is my _ridiculousness_ becoming too much again?”

“Will you stop fixating on that word?!” She cried, her nails boring into the back of her chair. “You are not ridiculous Thorin but your proposition was.” She sighed and released the chair. “We cannot-”

“We can.”

“Thorin you’re not-”

“We _can_.”

She gritted her teeth at his stubbornness and met his eyes, the fight beginning to leave her. “Reschedule the meeting.” She sighed, moving to the door. “Reschedule it and we will discuss this at another time.”

“I will do no such thing.” Her hand came to a stop on the doorknob at his words and the unchanged rage behind them. “I meant what I said; you are not fit to discuss the future of my people today.”

“Reschedule the meeting, Thorin.” She said, turning her head to him.

“No.”

“Thorin-”

“No.”

She tore her hand from the knob and whirled to face him the spark she had thought extinguished now blazing. “ _Reschedule the meeting_!”

“Do not shout at me; I am your _King_!” He cried, his chair flying back as he rose, and they faced each other across the table; chests heaving as his words and their meaning hung around them.

“No Thorin; you are my _friend_!” She told him. “You have always been my friend; when you were a prince, when we had _nothing_ and now when you have almost everything you could want; you are still my _friend_.” She took a breath, her voice losing its power with every second until she was barely speaking, her eyes on the table and not him. “But maybe I’ve been wrong to see you as that before anything; I thought you were my friend and I thought you were the man I love.” She met his gaze. “I now see how wrong I was; _my liege_.”

* * *

Their moods didn’t change for the rest of the Summer. Or at least hers didn’t, she had given up trying to decipher what was going on behind the piercing blue of Thorin Oakenshield’s gaze. She was furious with him; furious that he had so easily dismissed her and her role here, furious that she had _let_ him dismiss her and furious that despite it all, he was the first thing on her mind when she woke and last when she closed her eyes at night.

And yet she was still to utter a friendly word to him and firmly maintained the fact that she was not to blame for the abyss forming between them. She knew that Fili and Kili found it hardest; their lives had been filled with her and Thorin laughing and teasing each other and raising them side-by-side and now, now they were only in the same room when it was explicitly needed and only joined for meals for the sake of the confused princes.

Summer was drawing to a close now and she was looking forward to turning her back on the icy blue walls of Erid Luin’s council chambers and return to the small, cosy cottage that held her heart when the blankets on her stately bed did little to warm the chill of hewn crystal walls.

It was almost time for them to pack up and return home for Durin’s Day and Ellie was doing all she could to not ram what little belongings she brought to and from the mountains into her pack and saddle the horses herself. Of course, returning to their cottage would bring problems of its own; there would be significantly less space in which she could avoid Thorin and without the delegation at his back every hour of the day, her incessant curtseying wouldn’t have the same riling effect on the irate King.

She fought the urge to blow out a deep breath and instead focused on the plate of food in front of her and the fact that she realistically only had to sit here for another ten minutes before she could escape to her own room and not want to simultaneously thump and kiss the man opposite her.

“I for one am glad we’re going home soon.” She glanced up as Fili broke the silence. “I don’t think my body could handle another celebration and the Durin’s Day one here is supposed to be legendary.”

“ _I’ve seen better_.” Her eyes snapped from Fili to Thorin as the words left her mouth almost simultaneously with him. Their eyes met, and she let her lips quirk slightly at the eyebrow raised at her.

“Better?” Kili asked, his own eyes flitting between his guardians. “Where?”

Ellie felt her smile drop at the question and the dropping of Thorin’s eyes to his plate signalled that the answer was hers this time. “Erebor.” She told the boy. “Everything you’ve heard about that goes on here, originated in Erebor. And we did it _better_.”

“Anyway…” Fili returned to his original topic. “…like I said; I look forward to the simplicity of home after this Summer.”

“Perhaps we can make it truly simple; a night under the stars on our way back?”

Ellie smiled at the not-so-subtle request from Kili and wondered how long they’d been planning on asking for it. They had both lived for the nights when she and Thorin would pack a bag and abandon the stone walls of their cottage for a night in the fields not far from home, where the stars were not distorted by the lights of the houses that surrounded them. Campfires and lullabies had soothed them until their eyelids had flickered closed under the inky sky. Life had always been simpler when it was just the four of them.

“You can do as you wish; I won’t be joining you.”

Thorin’s words snapped her from her memories and all promises of ignoring him unless she could somehow irritate him, were forgotten. “What do you mean you won’t be joining us?”

“I have business in Rohan.”

“Rohan?” She all but sneered at the name. “What in the name of Mahal do you have to do in _Rohan_?”

“Not that it is _any_ of your business…” He met her stare. “…but I have received reports of sightings…sightings of my father in Dunland.”

“Not that it is any of my business?” Disbelief seeped into her every word. “How could you say that?”

“He is _my_ father and therefore not your concern.”

“He _is_ your father, but he is also the man who took me in when I _lost mine_.” She reminded him. “You should not have kept this from me; he is my family too.”

Thorin said nothing, just held her stare before placing his cutlery down and linking his fingers under his chin. “Fili, Kili…” He said, never looking away from her. “…Please give us the room.”

And just like the last time those words were uttered, the princes vacated without a question, sealing them into the dining room.

“He is my family too.” She repeated.

“Dis was your family, Frerin was your family, my father is your family and my nephews are your family.” He let out a humourless laugh and relaxed back in his chair. “It would seem that everyone I am related to is your family and I am the only Durin who you deem unworthy of the same honour.”

“I don’t-”

“I am the ridiculous Durin.”

She groaned and let herself slump in her chair, mirroring his position as a fresh wave of tiredness washed over her. “Are you still holding onto that? Really?” He didn’t answer.

“I-”

“No.” She cut him off as she forced herself back into the straight-backed position she had been trained to sit in since she was a child. “No. You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“What you always do when people say something that hurts you, but you won’t allow them to see it: you inhale my words, jumble them all up inside you and then breath out an argument.”

“I have no idea what you speak of.”

She took a breath. “I’m sorry that my carelessness with my words hurt you Thorin, but a spur of the moment proposal in the shadowed alcove of a ballroom _is_ a ridiculous thing! How can you not see that?”

“We are done here, Lady Eleonóra.” His dismissal stung as though he’d slapped her and his casualness as he picked up his knife and fork and resumed his meal made her want to strangle him.

“So we’re supposed to go home and leave you to wander around _Isenguard_ looking for a man who probably was never _even there_?” He ignored her. “Thrain _isn’t in_ Dunland, Thorin. He never has been, and he never will be.” She watched the muscle in his jaw tick. “Even if he survived Moria he would have died long ago wandering the wilds of Enedwaith, so why are you doing th-”

“BECAUSE HE IS MY FATHER!”

The ferocity of his shout stilled her and the burning eyes now fixated on her for the first real time in weeks made her stomach flip. She may have taken this too far.

“Thorin I-”

“He is my father and I will spend _my life_ looking for him if I so please!” He told her, volume significantly lower but the rage still there. “Because as I have mentioned to you before; I am _the King_ and I will do _as I please_.”

She had nothing left to say after that. Nothing that could possibly turn this conversation around, so she chose to escape and simply rose from her seat and turned to leave. With the door half open and one hand against the wood though, she turned her head back to him.

“I hope you find him Thorin. I hope you find everything you want in Dunland. But when you return empty handed, I hope you don’t regret pushing me away; pushing away the last member of your family who _remembers_ Thrain.”

He said nothing, and she was empty now. So she let her hand slide from the door and stepped through it; leaving Thorin alone at the head of his empty table.  


	12. A Chance Encounter

Dunland was, predictably, a bust. It was the only way he could describe it to himself without flaring that unquellable anger that seemed to permanently reside deep in his chest lately and he didn’t feel much like screaming into the nothingness surrounding him – the only sure-fire way to release some of his pent-up rage.

So yes, Dunland had been a bust, but that didn’t mean his father _hadn’t_ been there; just that he wasn’t there when Thorin had arrived. Because he knew that Thrain was out there somewhere; he had to be. There was no chance that the Durin line ended with him; a wandering Dwarf with no home, no crown and certainly no gold.

He let his pack slide from his shoulder as a rock formation came into sight and he let himself rest atop the flattest surface he could find.

He couldn’t be the last of them. It couldn’t end with him; the greatest dynasty in Middle Earth…all snuffed out by the whim of a dragon. He was so sure that he would feel something if his father had died that day in Moria. So sure that there would have been a shift in the air as the crown passed to him. But there had been nothing but bloodshed and a pounding in his ears as he strained for the fallen oaken branch just out of reach.

He shook himself as the memories came racing back to him; his grandfather’s head rolling towards him, the monstrous smirk from the bloodened mouth of a pale orc, a dying soldiers last words and a point to the Mirrormere. He couldn’t seem to lose them lately. Even the flash of sunlight on a sword sent him back to those hellish days of desperation as they fled Erebor and then his mouth was dry, his fist taught and his chest burning with the rage of thousands of lost souls.

His body ached with the rage and unjustness of a man much younger than he was now.

Was it truly so long since it had all happened? Sometimes it was as though he had merely blinked but lately he felt every passing day like a festering wound; he was broken so deeply, and he wondered why it had taken so long to show.

Thror. Thrain. Frerin.

He was the last of them. The last of the Durin’s of Erebor. The last to run his hand across the hewn throne and the last to inhale the might of the forges. The Erebor of his memories was a haze of gold and music and youth. He was old now; aged by the years of wandering and hard labour. Withered by a constant worry over money. Bitter from the fact that he was sure that if he squinted he could see it; his peak rising above all others. But it was so far away, and he was alone here in this last smattering of hills before they flattened into the North-South Road.

And yet there was something else inside him too. Pushing at the borders of the darkness that had invaded him was a spark of something that wasn’t Erebor. It was a whispered reminder that he was not yet old, despite what his weary bones screamed at him; that he was only a breath into the lifespan of a dwarf and had many more centuries to come.

He pushed himself up from the flattened rock surface to stare ahead; Eriador was laid out before him and on this cloudless day he was sure he could make out a home of a different kind. Erebor was prosperity and luxury, it was power and might. But as his eyes followed the line of the villages not inked on any map, his ears echoed with laughter and celebrations and life.

Life.

Erebor held no life now. Hadn’t for a long time; a lifetime. But prosperity could mean having enough coins to buy iced buns after filling their cupboards with necessities, luxury was the act of putting up your feet in front a roaring fire and knowing the recently repaired roof wouldn’t leak tonight. Power was the reverberations up his arm as a hammer ironed out molten steel and might was watching two boys grow into men and knowing he had shaped them in some way.

He was the last of them. The last of the wandering Dwarves of Erebor and it was all his own fault; his people had homes and families and their lives were happy, which was more than he could say for himself at the moment. He ran a hand through is matted hair and blew out a sigh. He had been so consumed with his mortality of late. So intent on finding his father and passing over at least _some_ of his duties as King but as he’d wandered around the desolate landscape of Dunland he had realised that even if Thrain were alive, he would be a mere shadow of his former self.

And so here he was, sat atop a rock and trying to find the right way to turn up at his own door and not have it slammed in his face.

_“Then I’ll wed you tomorrow…”_

He cringed at the words he had uttered and wondered what had possessed him to make such a statement. It was…he cringed again. It was _ridiculous_.

* * *

It was raining by the time he reached Bree. With his hood doing little to protect him from the onslaught of water, he trudged through the cobbled streets and felt a pang for his warm cottage; Bree was so much like his little home and yet still so far away. With his pack and sword on his back, he headed for the one place he knew would have a roaring fire; The Prancing Pony.

He needed one night on a mattress before he completed his trek home. Durin’s Day was fast approaching, and he wanted to be with his family when the day rolled around. No, he needed to be with them. In a way, he was glad of this necessary pitstop, needing a solid roof over his head as he tried to figure out exactly what to say to Ellie when he arrived on their doorstep. She’d slam the door in his face if he knocked but would continue to ignore him if he simply walked in and pretended nothing had happened in Erid Luin.

The inn was in sight as his boots slapped through the layers of mud coating the streets and had his mind not spent days reliving the nightmares of Erebor and their time in the wilds of Middle Earth, he would likely have ignored the shiver that just trembled down his spine.

It didn’t take long for him to recognise the sensation and as he paused in front of The Prancing Pony’s doors, he risked a glance behind him. There was no person at his back, but he felt their eyes watching his every step. It was a risk to isolate himself here but the rowdy shouts from inside promised ale and warm food. Thorin was a warrior. He could handle Men trying their luck with a lost Dwarf.

Cloak shed, lone table located, and bag deposited at his side, Thorin let himself relax slightly as his pipe lit and he took a drag from its long neck. His mouth twitched upwards as his fingers caressed the smooth wood of the bowl and remembered the festive morning he’d been presented with the painstakingly whittled wood by a nervous 12-year-old Fili. The sounds of the inn were comforting; the laughter and raucous shouts of the men surrounding him easily believable as those of his fellow Dwarves as they relaxed after a day in the mines. He wondered why he couldn’t shake Erebor lately. Wondered why his feet got twitchy anytime he glanced East and why a cottage with a thatched roof and a beloved family still left a tiny part of him empty.

He wondered if the hewn corridors of Erebor were still cool to the touch even when thousands of people had filled them, or if dragon fire had taken that from him too. His mind was filled with a mountain lost but his heart tugged him towards home and so Thorin forced himself to smile when a waitress at this overrun inn placed a tankard of ale in front of him followed by a plate of what he hoped was something warm. The smile stayed in place when he noted the presence of bread and cheese instead of broth but as the roll was slightly warm to the touch he reminded himself that his kin had survived on far less for a lot longer than one measly night.

The sensation of eyes on him returned as he swallowed his first mouthful and feeling emboldened by the prospect of a full stomach, he turned to their owner. Bald with a pipe in his mouth and a single beady eye resting on Thorin, the man was too dry to have followed him in. But to his left, yes, the one with the cloak and the overconfidently raised eyebrow; those were the eyes from outside.

Letting his thumb brush over the metal of the rings adorning his hands, he took a moment to think. Confronting them here, in this packed place, would be a mistake; he hadn’t felt their eyes before Bree and if they were locals, he’d be at a disadvantage. His best bet would be to lead them away from the cobbled streets and give himself a chance without the risk of others getting involved. He blew a sigh out through his nose as he realised this meant forgoing his promised bed and meal and heading back into the rain.

He reached for the hilt of his sword as he saw them both rise in his periphery. Was it the silver on his fingers or the ornate hilt that had captured their attention? Perhaps the fur waistcoat over his chainmail? He didn’t plan on finding out. His fingers closed around the metal as they both took a step and he readied himself to fight. The casual appearance of a man at his table had him retracting his hand almost immediately as he confronted the figure now sat opposite him.

“Mind if I join you?” The man gave Thorin no chance to respond, reaching out to a passing waitress and gesturing to his plate. “I’ll have the same.”

Thorin noted his would-be attackers slip back to their seats and let a breath of relief loose. He was tired enough without having to defend himself. And injuries would only slow his progress home.

“I should introduce myself…” The man said and Thorin remembered that while the aggressive strangers were receding, this one was still at his table. “…my name is Gandalf.” Well that made things different. “Gandalf the Grey.” He clarified, as if there could be another 6-foot Gandalf walking around with a long beard and all-knowing eyes.

“I know who you are.” Thorin told him, taking in every part of the legendary wizard and questioning his presence in The Prancing Pony of all places.

He laughed. “Well now; this is a fine chance.” He exclaimed. “What brings Thorin Oakenshield to _Bree_?”

Thorin paused, his mid flicking back to his dining room in Erid Luin and wondering exactly how he’d arrived here. But he saw no point in lying to the wizard. “I received word that my father had been seen wandering the Wilds near Dunland.” He ignored the flash of pity in Gandalf’s gaze. “I went looking…and found no sign of him.”

“Thorin, it’s been a long time since anything but rumour was heard of Thrain.”

“He still lives, I am _sure_ of it.” The appearance of a plate identical to his own offered a momentary pause in the conversation. He watched the wizard and deciding he wouldn’t have another chance like this, asked a question that had long been on his mind. “My father came to see you before we reached Moria; before he went missing. What did you say to him?”

“I urged him to march upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain.”

It was an answer, but not one he’d expected. Thorin had long believed that his father asked for foresight about the outcome of the battle and had forged onwards knowing the risks they would face. He had believed his father had acted as a King that day, but to have had Gandalf the Grey’s advice and ignore it? To abandon Erebor at what may have been the best time to act? His father had been running.

“And I would say the same to you.” Gandalf continued, pulling Thorin from his thoughts as he tore apart his bread. “Take back your homeland.”

He pushed his plate to one side and wrapped his hand around his tankard. His appetite was long gone for food, but with further talk of Erebor a new one, or rather; a forgotten one, was being slowly fed.

“This is no chance meeting, is it Gandalf?”

“No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn toward Erebor.” He reached into a hidden pocket as Thorin drank deeply. “I ran into some unsavoury characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond.”

“I imagine they regretted that.”

Gandalf ignored him and unrolled a piece of cloth. “One of them was carrying a message.” He slid the cloth forward and Thorin felt his mouth dry at the scribbles over an image of a mountain; his mountain. “It is Black speak; a promise of payment.”

“For what?”

“Your head.” He wanted to laugh. After years of working to ignore the ache he felt for Erebor, it was when his mind was drifting back to it more than he would like that this was presented to him. it was no coincidence. “Someone wants you dead, Thorin.” That wasn’t a surprise. His eyes flickered to his sword and a small smirk pulled at his lips. They’d have to do more than want. “You…and your family.”

It was like a punch to his gut. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was still far from home and that his family, the three he’d spent so much of his life trying to protect, were alone.

“Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin; unite the armies of the dwarves. Together you have the might and power to retake Erebor.”

His mind was reeling as Gandalf spoke. He was torn between wanting to get up and sprint to his front door to make sure they weren’t already slaughtered in their beds and staying here to get all he could from Gandalf. His mind filled with images of Fili and Kili training since babes and of the bow Ellie kept under the stairs. They were fine, he told himself, she had fought off an Orc pack and they were blacksmiths. Nothing would enter that house unless they permitted it.

He looked to Gandalf and with another reassurance of ‘they’re fine’, he focused.

“Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families; demand they stand by their oaths.”

“The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel; the Arkenstone.” He reminded Gandalf. “It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug.” He could still see his grandfather reaching for it as Smaug incinerated everything else in his path.

“What if I were to help you to reclaim it?”

“How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon.”

“Yes, it does, which is why we are going to need a burglar.” Gandalf said, a gleam in his eye that Thorin was unable to decipher.

“A burglar?” Thorin asked. “What good is a burglar if we can’t get through the front gates?”

“Leave it to me, Thorin Oakenshield.” The wizard smiled. “And I will leave the gathering of an army to you.” He reached out and drained Thorin’s tankard in a single breath. “I do have a few suggestions though; your nephews and the lovely Lady Eleonóra.”

“I have a lifetime of debts owed to Eleonóra, I will not ask this of her also.”

“I do not know her as you do, Thorin, so I ask; what happens if you don’t include her?”

Thorin paused for a moment running through the list of scenarios that could occur if he were to turn up at home after causing a scene in Erid Luin, announce he was reclaiming Erebor and then tell her she wasn’t invited. “She’d come anyway.”

Gandalf laughed again. “You’ll need her if you are to convince the seven families to join you.” He said. “And to convince you to join with them.”

* * *

He can see her through the gap between the door and its frame and he’d stay here forever if meant he’d never have to face her wrath and disappointment. He leans against the outside wall of their home and resolves to let her finish her song; let her have this moment of solace before stomping in and ruining it.

When he’d first arrived at the house and seen the ajar door, his heart had almost exploded from his chest with Gandalf’s words mixing with images of his family, his perfect family, cut down in their home. He’d needed a minute, needed to brace himself against the brick and try and compose himself. It was then he’d heard her. It started light but as she got further into the song, he found himself wearing a besotted smile.

It was one she’d sung to the boys as a lullaby and he silenced a laugh at how, even during an argument, their minds were unconsciously on the same wavelength; she sang of Erebor as she moved around the kitchen and he let her voice carry the images of golden ceilings and the soft glow of candles encased in crystal into his mind’s eye. He waited until she’d finished to step through the open door and into the cool kitchen.

“I received a letter this morning.” She said, her back to him and he questioned how long she’d been aware of his presence. “It was most unusual; from Gandalf the Grey.” She continued. “And I thought, surely not _the_ Gandalf the Grey, but sure enough…” She turned to face him and gestured to a simple sheet of paper sat on their table. “So I asked myself why Gandalf, legendary wizard that he is, would be writing to me; a _nobody dwarrowdam_ in a town of Men?” He flinched at her description of herself and knew his words in Erid Luin had struck deep. “So perhaps you can explain it.” She said, an eyebrow arched as he met her gaze. “And why I should, as he said, ‘hear you out’?”

Thorin sighed, set his pack at his feet and sweeping over the fact that his father, as she’d predicted, was not in Rohan, he told her of Bree and the message he’d received from a wizard with eyes focused on the East.


End file.
